


Autosuggestion

by goflecks



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alcohol, Bottom!Jonathan, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Slow Burn, Smut, there will be so much smut, top!steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-07
Updated: 2019-03-05
Packaged: 2019-10-23 16:22:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 55,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17686886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goflecks/pseuds/goflecks
Summary: The summer of ‘85 is a whirlwind of drinking, smoking, unlikely companionship, and learning that not everything has to make sense.





	1. The Beginning

“I would’ve been fine.”

Steve steals a glance at the blonde-headed kid in the passenger seat, who looks huffy and offended and frankly just kind of dramatic.

“No, you would not have been fine,” he insists, raising his eyebrows at him before turning back to watch the road.“Aren’t you supposed to be smart and all that?You ride your bike home in the rain and you’re gonna be sick and you were _just_ sick last week and need I remind you whose ass Mike was up while you were in bed for two days? _Mine_.It was my ass, Will.”

Will lets out a little snicker, just a hard puff of air through his nose.He _is_ smart, and he sees right through Steve’s bullshit and knows for a fact he didn’t mind having Mike hanging around for a couple days.He’d told him all about the fun the two of them’d had and how Steve has tons of cool movies in his house and his couch is _huge_ and he let him order pizza back to back for two days.Steve is just worried about Will, it’s fine if he won’t admit it.

“That’s a myth,” he retorts nonchalantly.

“What?” 

“Being in the cold making you sick.It’s a myth.The only way it would make you sick is if you got hypothermia which would weaken your immune system, but it’s not cold enough for-“

“Jesus!” Steve interrupts, staring out the windshield incredulously. “Can’t you just be normal?”

Will shrugs.“I’m just saying.”

Gravel crackles under the tires as Steve pulls into the driveway, and he leaves the car running while Will hops out to collect his bike from the backseat.“Just call me next time if it’s shitty out, okay?Jeez.”

“Sure,” Will lies, nearly hitting himself in the face with a tire as he struggles with his bike.

“Say hi to Jonathan for me!” he shouts as the kid’s about to shut the door, and it makes him poke his head back in, chuckling a little.So much for keeping him out of the rain, he’s setting up camp out here.

“Sure, I’ll do it in a week when he finally decides to come out of his room.”

Steve furrows his eyebrows, twisting around in his seat so he can look at the boy while they talk.Since they’ve decided to have a full-blown conversation.“Wait, what?”

“Him and Nancy broke up a few days ago,” Will explains, and he almost looks a little sad. “He won’t even talk to _me_ about it.He’s just been sitting around with the door closed listening to music ever since.I don’t even think he’s come out to pee.”

“So what you’re saying is, the Love Doctor is about to make a house call.”Steve raises his eyebrows up and down.

Will rolls his eyes, pulling his bike out the way of the door.“He does not want to talk to you, Steve.”

“Oh, but he _will_.He will soon.”

“I don’t even know what that means.”Will slams the door before Steve can say anything else.

  

What it _means_ is that this is a job for alcohol.

Steve and Jonathan aren’t exactly friends — it’s hard to be friends with your girlfriend’s ex and hard to be friends with the guy who stole your girlfriend — but they’re on speaking terms at least, and they sit at the same lunch table and chat every now and again.Steve’s not exactly worried about Jonathan because he’s a friend though, but rather because he’s also a surviving Nancy Victim and he’s pretty sure he knows what Jonathan is going through to an extent.And...okay, so _maybe_ he also cares because ever since he started chilling with these kids all the time his dormant maternal instinct has started spreading its roots everywhere and he has a desperate inkling to take care of anyone who might need it.  _Sue him_.It makes him feel warm and fuzzy inside.

So that’s why he finds himself back on the Byers’ doorstep roughly forty-five minutes later, holding a bottle of rum by the neck in one hand and a two-liter of coke under his armpit.He raps his knuckles twice on the door and hears the pitter patter of tiny Will feet approach it.The door’s swung open and the blonde boy gives him a confused stare. 

“I thought you lef-Steve, it’s _Tuesday_.”

“Every day is Friday when you just got dumped.”Steve pushes past the smaller boy, stepping into the house.“Can you get your brother?”

“Good luck,” Will mutters, shutting the door behind them.“JONATHAN!”

“Well, I could’ve done that.”

There’s a pause as they both wait for an answer, and for a second Steve thinks that they might not get one, but then a distant, “I’m sleeping!” rings from behind his closed door.

Will looks up at the taller of the two, lips pressed together in a way that only means _I_   _told_   _you so_.But he tries one more time out of the kindness of his heart.

“STEVE’S HERE!”

“You really don’t need to yell that loud,” Steve suggests.

“Okay?” For fuck’s sake, why doesn’t Jonathan just open his door?

“HE’S HERE FOR YOU!” 

 _Finally_ , a reaction.Steve can hear shuffling from the bedroom and the guitar in the background come to an abrupt halt.His bottle of Coke is starting to hurt his armpit.Then the door’s pulled open, and Jonathan steps out.

“What?Why?”

Steve cringes a little bit, sizing the boy up.He definitely looks a little worse for wear.Hair’s messy, shirt’s wrinkled, he’s in his pajamas and it’s only 5pm.It’s kinda rough.

Steve takes a couple of steps towards him, smiling sympathetically.“Hey...I uh, heard about you and Nance.” 

“Yes, Steve, it’s fine.”Jonathan grips the door frame, about to pivot around back into his room, and Steve has to grab him by the shoulder to stop him.

“Wait, what?” 

Jonathan rolls his eyes, like he’s supposed to know exactly what he’s talking about or something, then they meet his own and his expression is almost...sincere.“It’s fine if you ask her out again.Seriously.I won’t be mad.You can save your alcohol for when she says yes.”

Steve blinks, shakes his head a little as he tries to take in the response.“What?No...Jonathan, no.That’s not why I’m here, man.”

“Then...” Jonathan looks around, like he’s trying to put together some other piece of the puzzle.“Why are you?”

“I mean...” Steve reaches to grab the bottle of Coke from under his arm and _ow_ , that hurts, “We’re like, friends...sorta.We’re acquaintances.I just...your brother told me what happened and breakups suck.I figured you could use some company.”

Jonathan narrows his eyes, clearly skeptical, but he still steps aside to allow Steve entry into his room, eyeing the bottle in Steve’s hand.“You know it’s Tuesday, right?”

“Why do there have to be two of you,” Steve mutters. 

“Huh?”

“Nothing.”

  

It takes surprisingly little convincing to get Jonathan to accept a mixed drink, so Steve assumes he must be having a pretty rough time.They’re settled up on his bed with The Smiths playing softly in the background, and even though Jonathan looks visibly reserved, he’s the one to break the awkward silence. 

“You must’ve really not had _anything_ to do.”

Steve scoffs, taking a sip of his drink.The truth is he _did_ actually have things to do.He’s got a bunch of homework that he’s been putting off and a test in two days, plus there’s a good movie playing right now that he was thinking about going and seeing, but there was just something that pulled him to come see Jonathan tonight.He’s just a sucker for being a shoulder to cry on, he supposes.

“I mean, I didn’t exactly have to clear my calendar,” he lies, giving a little shrug. “But believe it or not hanging out with you is _not_ last on my list of desirable activities.”

“What is?” Jonathan prods, sipping at his own drink. “Fighting an angry bear?Dying in a fire?”

“Oh would you _shut up_?” Steve reaches over to shove Jonathan’s knee, and he flinches a little bit, clearly still not fully comfortable.Still though, he lets out a little laugh, a genuine one, that makes his dimples show.

“I just don’t understand why it’s that important to you, I guess.” 

Steve looks up to study Jonathan’s face, his hair hanging in his eyes and the dark circles that reside under them.He wants to give him some speech about how he should just accept when someone cares about him and stop overthinking it (even though he might be right, it doesn’t make a whole lot of sense for Steve to care this much), but instead he looks down to study his drink while the blonde takes another sip of his own.

“Look, when Nancy broke up with me...nobody came around, okay?I kinda just had to deal with my shit on my own.I was pretty upset.I just...didn’t want you to feel like that I guess.” 

Jonathan fiddles with his lip between his teeth for a moment, watching Steve carefully, and he almost thinks he’s gonna accuse him of being a liar when he says, “Well...thanks.Thank you.I think...you were right about me needing a little company.”

“Yeah, you looked like you were starting to collect dust,” Steve retorts, and Jonathan laughs again, leaning back.So this is what he’s like when he’s drinking, huh?Giggly.It fleetingly crosses his mind that it’s kind of endearing, seeing him like this, and he’s known for a while that Jonathan isn’t just the hard exterior he puts up for strangers, he’s kind of a big softie, but he’s just never really spent a lot of time with him, he supposes.

“So what happened?” he asks brazenly, knowing full well that Jonathan might choose not to answer.He sees hesitance in the boy’s eyes and huffs, reaching over for the rum so he can top off the other’s drink.“Look, it cant get any worse than her getting drunk and telling you you’re bullshit.”

Jonathan watches as Steve fills his glass halfway with alcohol, then follows it with another splash of Coke.He hasn’t really explained it to anyone yet, he realizes.They’ve all been courteous enough to let well enough alone, and leave it to Steve to be the absolute opposite of that.He knows he doesn’t mean anything by it, he’s just... _Steve_ , but damn.

“Umm..” He swirls his glass around a little, absentmindedly trying to mix the liquids together, and watches as the bubbles make a tiny vortex in his drink. “I broke up with her, actually.” 

“Wait, _what_?” Steve sets his drink down on the nightstand, leaning forward.  _Now_  he’s interested.

Jonathan nods, taking something more like a swig from his glass now that it’s going down increasingly easier.“I uh...I just wasn’t in love with her, you know?I dunno...”Another swig — _Easy there, buddy_.“I mean I didn’t tell her she was bullshit,” he smirks up at Steve, “but it was some nicer and more eloquent version of that.”

“Well, okay...”Steve rubs his nose, trying and failing to hide his genuine surprise.“So, if you dumped her, then...why so mopey?”

“I just feel guilty I guess,” Jonathan shrugs, and Steve can tell he’s oversimplifying but he doesn’t want to pry any more.So instead, he just sets to refilling his own drink and tells Jonathan to turn the music up.

  

“Shhh, shhh, you’re okay.”

Jonathan makes a noise that Steve can only describe as miserable, resting his head on the arm he has wrapped around the toilet. 

“So your method of dealing with a breakup is just puking your guts out so you can worry about that instead?”

Steve manages to reel back his urge to chuckle and turn it into a small smirk.Apparently there’s no such thing as Jonathan being sick enough not to complain.

“No, I usually stop before I end up in your position.”

Jonathan groans, but he appears to be looking a little better, so Steve leans across him and flushes the toilet, keeping a hand on his back.He sits back, gently rubbing circles atop Jonathan’s tee shirt.

He’s good at this job.Steve has been to more parties than he could count on...a lot of people’s hands, and more often than not he spends the latter part of the night playing the role of Designated Drunk Mom.He’s desensitized to the retching noises and how generally disgusting the whole ritual is and tonight hasn’t come as an exception.He does feel a little bit bad though, since he was the one who gave Jonathan alcohol, and the one who let him choose how much of it he ought to drink.Though, if he hadn’t shown up, Steve supposes, he would just be on a different plane of miserable. 

“Here.” He grabs a bottle of water from next to him on the floor, extending it towards Jonathan, but he waves a hand at it, face still buried in the crook of his arm.

“Not moving yet,” he explains, and Steve just nods, setting it back down next to the toilet.Then, he frowns as thinks better of it being in such a close proximity of the crime scene and picks it up to place it in the middle of the room.

He reaches over to shove Jonathan’s hair back so it’s not dangling into the toilet, and he must really be serious about not moving because he doesn’t flinch at all, just stays in position.Steve sighs, and removes his hand from the boy’s back for the time being.He sits back a bit, resting his head against the sink, and stares up at the ceiling, studying the water damage collecting above the tub.

“One time I went to a party at Marlene Atkins’.”

“Congratulations.”

“Let me finish, Jonny-boy,” he retorts, and he finally sees Jonathan move, but only to slowly turn and glare in response to the nickname, then his face is buried again.

“I drank _so much_  Bacardi it wasn’t even funny.Just kept going and going.Nobody really told me to stop because who tells people to stop drinking at parties, unless they’re like, your best friend and don’t want you puking in their passenger seat?Well, in the middle of talking to a girl who was kinda cute, or at least at the time, I literally threw up all over myself.Just out of nowhere.All over my feet and the bottom of my pants.”

Jonathan snickers, the sound echoing a bit in the toilet.

“I was in her bathroom all night,” he continues, tapping his foot on the ground as he speaks. “Literally fell asleep with my head in her toilet and woke up to light coming in the window.Covered in my own puke.So...don’t feel bad.At least you hit the target.”

Jonathan’s hum in response assures Steve that he did indeed need to hear that.It makes Steve feel a little prideful that he can comfort him, he won’t lie.

The night up until now was honestly pretty good.He’d managed to get Jonathan to sing with him to a U2 song (which earned an angry knock on the wall from Will and some incoherent shouting).They’d laughed and smoked cigarettes and blew smoke out the window, and attempted to debate the existence of aliens which kind of fell flat when they found they both completely believed they were out there.But then after a while and a few more drinks Jonathan started getting quieter, and he kept closing his eyes and sighing, and since Steve is an expert he had ushered him to the bathroom before the situation got out of hand.Not that it isn’t still a sad sight to see Jonathan all sweaty and pale with his hair stuck to his forehead and his head on the toilet seat, but it definitely would’ve been worse if he had puked on his own bed.Worse for everybody.

“Can you let me help you get your face out of there now?”

“I’ll just sleep here,” Jonathan mumbles, and Steve scoffs.

They’re silent for a bit while Steve waits for Jonathan to feel well enough to relocate, and he focuses in on the steady dripping coming from the bathtub faucet, the sound of the water hitting the metal of the drain.It occurs to him that his position right now is really strange.This time last year, he would’ve been hanging out with friends, running around town and blaring music and gossiping about his classmates.And now, he’s sitting in the Byers’ bathroom watching the eldest of the two boys try not to vomit again and it’s sort of surreal.

Jonathan forgave him a long time ago for everything that had happened between them.But Steve certainly never expected to become genuine friends with him.Though, he finally admits to himself, he’s been drawn to Jonathan for a while.It’s something about the personality that hides beneath his overall broodiness, that he’d catch glimpses of every now and again.Jonathan laughing at one of Nancy’s jokes, or going on a tangent about a movie he’d watched.Steve had slowly come to understand that there was a colorful person hiding behind his exterior, even if he didn’t know what shades he was made up of, and it had grabbed his interest and held onto it ever since everything had transpired with The Upside Down.

That’s probably why he took this opportunity, to be honest.Because he had a reasonable excuse to show up and he knew Jonathan was probably vulnerable enough to let him in for a second.

He eyeballs the boy in question, his closed eyes and messy hair, his ragged tee shirt that had been revealed when he shucked his sweater off on the bathroom floor.Right now, he lacks all the roughness that he usually exudes and Steve could dare to describe him as _precious_.He looks away, frowning at the thought.He’s starting to sound like an actual mom and he needs to quit while he’s ahead.

“Hey,” he says softly, reaching forward to rub Jonathan’s back again, and all he gets in response is a soft _mmm_.He sighs and grabs his shoulder, shaking a little.

“Hey, Jonathan.Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

He doesn’t get an answer this time, and Steve takes a deep breath in, gripping the sink to aide in pulling himself up, his knees cracking from having been on the floor for so long.He crosses the hall to Jonathan’s room, gathers up all his bedclothes in his arms, and comes back to dump them on the bathroom floor.  _Typical Friday night_ , he thinks to himself.Wait.It’s Tuesday.

He tosses a pillow down by the tub, kneeling next to the boy again, and instead of trying to wake him this time, he just hoists him up by his armpits and slowly lowers him down for his head to rest on the pillow.Jonathan stirs a little bit, but he’s pretty sure he’s out cold.He probably needed some good rest like this, needed an encouragement to sleep well and just stop thinking about everything for a while.Steve would know.He’s been through a rough breakup too.And even though he doesn’t fully understand the reasons, it’s clear that rough is definitely a good word for this one.

He studies him again for a moment, watching his chest rise and fall as he breathes, and he just looks so serene somehow.

Steve justifies that he’s too lazy and tired to make the drive home.He’s had some to drink, and it wouldn’t be responsible.Jonathan might need him in the middle of the night.He might wake everyone in the house up when he starts his car up.Take your pick.But really, he decides, as he drapes Jonathan’s comforter over him and curls up himself with his fitted sheet, it’s probably because the steady sound of Jonathan breathing in and out makes him feel warm in his chest, and he’d rather be here than anywhere else.

He’s not sure what to make of that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was meant to be a one shot ending in smut that has already gotten way out of hand. so i’m separating it into chapters before i accidentally exceed the character limit. seeing as i’m a ridiculously scatterbrained writer, things like the titles and overall plot direction are all subject to change until i’m finished, but if you’re here from the start, bear with me and thanks for joining the ride.


	2. The Realization

“Oh my god.”

Nancy looks up at Jonathan as his tray clatters down on the lunch table, and he flops down in his usual seat, eyeing his food skeptically.It’s something that looks like an industrial version of Hamburger Helper, and usually he would be all over it (he’s really not picky anyways), but right now it really doesn’t look very appetizing.

“Are you okay?”

Steve snickers a little as Jonathan shrugs, mumbling something about being tired, and he props his elbow up to rest his head on his hand.

He and Nancy had broken up on a Friday night.She hadn’t been at school on the following Monday, which had made Jonathan feel really, really bad, and then she returned on the aforementioned Tuesday, and sat at their lunch table as usual.It was awkward, and quiet, and now that Jonathan thinks about it he’s not sure how Steve had to receive the news from Will that they weren’t together anymore, because he’s sure it was glaringly obvious.Maybe it’s just because Steve dominated the conversation, as he usually does, and he was too busy talking about their group project in English and how nasty the peas looked and how he can’t wait for school to be over in a month to notice.Actually, now that Jonathan thinks about it, maybe he _did_  notice the uncomfortable tension and that’s why he had so much to say that day.He’s kind of starting to think that Steve is more perceptive than he would appear to be.

“Just...take care of yourself, okay Jonathan?”

He can read the concern on her face when he looks up at her and he nods, trying to appear as earnest as possible even though it’s hard to make any expressions at all right now.He can tell she’s not really convinced that he absorbed her words, but she doesn’t say anything else about it.

Nancy is nice.She is _really_  nice.She deserves to be in a happy relationship, and Jonathan kind of wonders if Steve will ask her back out even though he assured him last night those weren’t his intentions.He doesn’t really like the idea of that, he decides.Steve might be fine with being a third wheel, but he’s pretty sure if they started making heart eyes at each other again he would go back to sitting alone at lunch.It would just be way too weird.

“You should eat that,” Steve mutters, looking up from his own food to point his fork at Jonathan’s. “It’ll help.Trust me.”

Nancy glances between the two of them as Jonathan obeys, picking at his noodles, and for a moment it looks like she’s going to ask them something, but she stays silent, and they all go back to their food, quietly. 

Jonathan looks up at Steve, and he’s shot a smile that feels so surprisingly genuine that he has to look away.

 

The next time that he and Steve hang out it’s similarly impromptu.Or at least on Jonathan’s part.

He’s crossing the parking lot, fishing around in his pocket for his keys, and he hears a familiar, “Yo!”, ring out from his left.He whips his head around to see Steve leaning against his car, sunglasses perched up on his head, waving him over with a hand.Usually he would be confused, if not altogether disgruntled, but after the other night he’s not quite so wary of Steve.Not that he’s felt all that wary of him recently anyways.In the recent months that he’d integrated himself into his and Nancy’s little ‘group’ (he’s not sure if two counts as a group), Jonathan had come to find that Steve is just as interesting a person as the next.Not so shallow, not so one-sided, and dorky about certain things if you got him going.He didn’t mind Steve’s company as much as he assumed that he would, and now, Jonathan thinks he can _almost_  consider him a friend.It’s weird to be able to say that, that he’s friends with Steve Harrington, after everything that has gone on, but he’s developed a lot of unlikely relationships lately.Things really aren’t anything like how they used to be, and that’s a fact that’s making itself increasingly obvious as time passes.

He crosses the distance between them, adjusting his bag on his shoulder, and before he can ask what it is that he wants, Steve is reaching into his pocket to hold something up.

Jonathan has to focus his eyes for a moment to realize that it’s a blunt, and he makes a choked noise in his throat, reaching up to cover Steve’s hand.

“Don’t hold that up in the air like that, are you crazy?”

“Relax,” Steve laughs, but he allows Jonathan to guide his hand down so he’s hiding it at his side. “No one’s around here, it’s cool.”

Jonathan’s looking at Steve like he has two heads, and it’s because he just _really_  didn’t expect this to be a thing that was happening right now.Then again, he didn’t expect Steve to show up on his doorstep on a weeknight and get him so drunk that he had to take care of him.But that’s a thing that happened.

“I didn’t know you—Don’t they drug test you?For like, sports?And whatever?”

“Yeah, _once_ ,” Steve chuckles, adjusting his stance as he stuffs the blunt back in his sweatshirt pocket. “What, do you not smoke?Like, it’s cool if you don’t, you’re just so—“ He waves his hand up and down towards Jonathan, trying to find the right words. “—artsy and alternative, or whatever.I thought for sure this would be the way to your heart.”

Jonathan stares up at him, not sure how to respond to that.He’s sort of right, Jonathan _enjoys_  weed, he just works at a restaurant and doesn’t exactly make enough money to supply a steady habit.He’s also not certain if he should be offended or not that Steve would be baffled if he didn’t.

But Steve is good enough company and he’s definitely in no position to turn down free pot.So he just shrugs and replies, “It is.”

A grin spreads across Steve’s face.“Knew it.Come on, let’s go on a road trip.”

 

It turns out that what ‘road trip’ meant was a ten minute drive to the parking lot of an abandoned gas station.The ride wasn’t quiet, it was filled with music blaring from Steve’s speakers as he blabbered on about the ice cream shop that just opened back up for the summer on top of a million other little things, and Jonathan just listened contentedly, glad that Steve could fill the gaps between what he has to say.Because he just...doesn’t always say a lot.

It’s not that he purposefully shuts people out.In all honesty he’s just not really used to having people to talk to.He keeps to himself, his thoughts in his head, and doesn’t really go around voicing them to everybody.So when there’s someone _there_ , who wants to listen, he’s kind of at a loss for what’s redundant and what’s necessary information.

He finds himself always dancing on the line between saying too much and not saying enough, like the ability that everyone else has hardwired into them to carry on normal, socially acceptable conversation was accidentally left out of him.  He’s exceptionally bad at small talk, because why would he want to talk about things unless he really cares about them, and when he asks questions like, ‘How was your day?’ and ‘What are you doing?’, it’s only because he genuinely wants to know the answer.  Then, once he gets going, he’s on a tangent, blabbering for a pointlessly long time and too busy sorting through his thoughts as they come out his mouth to notice if the recipient is tired of listening.  There are few people who tolerate his rambling, a couple of them being his immediate family, and he’s figured for a while that it’s best to keep it that way.

Nancy always liked to listen to him, though.She’d encourage him to talk about things he was holding in, whether they were meaningful or totally unimportant, and that’s what he had been mourning the loss of the most, just being able to be totally transparent with her.  She never started looking bored when his eyes lit up and he talked about a book he had read for half an hour, and she never told him that she didn’t really care about something, always inquired about his day and his interests and soaked up the information it provided her with.

Their breakup didn’t carry with it any animosity, it wasn’t like that at all, but things were just...awkward now.  How could they not be?  There’s just no way to be as close as they once were.  Maybe that’s part of the reason that it took him so long (five months, to be exact) to break up with her.  Because he was afraid of what he knew he was going to lose.  But mostly it was just because he wanted to be sure.

Yet now, there’s Steve.Steve is the same way.He asks Jonathan questions that no one’s ever asked him before, gently prompts him to ramble about things and leave his head for a moment.Usually it would annoy him to have someone so up his ass about it, trying to get him to speak even when he doesn’t seem to want to.  He puts his guard up for a reason; because he knows once he gets going he can be hard to shut off.  But Steve is surprisingly easy to talk to.The conversation just flows, and Steve’s eyes are always intent as he explains things, waiting eagerly for what he’s going to say next.It’s actually refreshing.

Steve turns off the ignition when they reach their destination, and immediately pulls out the reason for their being there, bringing with it a lighter and flicking it open.Jonathan watches as he holds the flame to the end, his face twisted up in concentration, then takes a few hits before passing it to his right.Jonathan takes it between his two fingers, and as he does, he thinks fleetingly that he’s never had companionship quite like this before, not even with Nancy.There’s just something really comfortable about the atmosphere between them, like their energy buzzes at just the same frequency.He’s really not sure how to explain it.

They go back and forth in silence for a couple minutes, the car starting to smell particularly pungent despite the windows being rolled down.Jonathan wonders if he has a spare jacket somewhere in his trunk.

“So what would be worse,” Steve asks as the blunt is passed back to him, settling into his seat. “A human with a horse face or a horse with a human face?”

Jonathan laughs incredulously, watching as Steve blows smoke towards the ceiling. “You are definitely not high enough yet to be asking me that question.”

Steve shakes his head as he passes to Jonathan, coughing lightly. “Nah, I ask everyone this question.Consider yourself lucky it hasn’t been raised to you before.”

Jonathan laughs quietly, taking a hit or two as he thinks about it, and his voice is strained from the smoke in his throat while he hands it back. “Horse with a human face,” he decides. “Definitely.”

“ _What_?”Steve looks like Jonathan just told him that he killed somebody.He’s like, genuinely shocked and offended, and Jonathan laughs hard as he continues.

“No, no, fuck off, clearly it would be way more horrifying to just walk up to this person and shake their hand, and they have an entire snout.Just imagine that.”

Jonathan can’t stop laughing now, and he can feel the high washing over him, his own giggling feeling like it’s sort of far away. 

“No...just...listen,” Jonathan argues, trying to calm down and keep his voice steady.“Imagine a horse just like, galloping around and it turns and smiles at you.”

Steve bursts out into laughter, clasping his hand on the center console like he’s going to collapse, and this sets Jonathan back off with him, trying to gasp in air as he doubles over.Steve offers him the blunt again but he waves a hand, still sputtering a bit, and leans back to attempt to catch his breath.

He turns and watches as Steve pries the lid off an empty McDonald’s pop in his cup holder and snubs the roach out on the rim, his eyes still smiling, and Jonathan notes that he loves the way he laughs.So loud and bright and unabashed.Jonathan wishes he could be that carefree, have that kind of spunk all the time.

They go quiet again for a minute, Steve settling back in his seat, and Jonathan can hear the birds out the window, the sounds of spring-turning-summer around them.He’s engulfed with a feeling of serenity, one of those ecstatic moments where you’re just overwhelmed with happiness and can’t really put your finger on why.It’s a good moment.Jonathan’s fingers itch to pull his camera out and take a photo, just of anything, to capture the feeling.But before he can do it, Steve breaks the stillness.

“So, when are you gonna tell me why you really broke up with Nancy?”

Jonathan only realizes he had closed his eyes when he opens them to the question, glancing at Steve out the corner of them.“I did.”

“I mean yeah, you sort of did,” Steve reasons, tipping his head back and forth. “But there’s more to it, right?”

Jonathan sighs, turning to look out the window, studying their surroundings.His eyes train on one of the old, worn-out gas pumps and he thinks that yeah, he’ll definitely have to pull his camera out here soon.He turns the question over in his head, trying to decide what information to offer and what to omit.He likes Steve, but he’s not sure he wants to tell him his life story.  _Yet_ , he adds as an afterthought, because it seems like maybe he and Steve are becoming a good, albeit unlikely, pair.

“It just didn’t feel right,” he says finally, and he already knows that isn’t going to be sufficient, just from the way Steve’s face looks.

“How so?” he asks, and God, as much as Jonathan likes it when Steve talks, he wishes right now that he would just _shut up_.

He watches as Steve digs in his pocket for his cigarettes, pulling one out and handing it to Jonathan, then placing one between his own lips.He lights his, then keeps the lighter flicked so that Jonathan can lean forward and do the same.

Jonathan takes a long drag off his cigarette, thinking, hard, and he’s sort of deciding that maybe it’s okay to talk to Steve, he seems cool, and he kind of just wants to talk to someone right now, about everything, especially since he’s stoned.He thinks back to that night, to how everything had gone down, and honestly it’s so fucking _ridiculous_ , and he lets out a little snort, staring up at the ceiling.

“What?” Steve prompts, confused, and Jonathan can feel his eyes on him as he brings his cigarette to his lips again, smirking while he tries to hold back more laughter.

“I was eating her out.”

“ _What_?” Steve furrows his eyebrows, trying desperately to understand. “You were— What?”

He has no idea why he feels comfortable talking to him about this.  Usually he would shy away from this topic even with Nancy, never wanted to talk about sex out loud.  But it’s just something about  _Steve._

“When I broke up with her,” he continues. “My face was all the way—“

“Oh my god!”It’s Steve’s turn to laugh, hesitantly at first, and then, he slowly starts to lose it as Jonathan joins in with him, giggling uncontrollably.“Like, right in the middle?”

“Yeah.” Jonathan doesn’t know why he’s laughing.He’s turned this occurrence over in his mind a million times and all he could feel was guilt, but now it’s just so fucking _funny_  and Steve is laughing and he just can’t stop. “I...I just told her, ‘I can’t do this’ and she was like, ‘What the fuck?’”

Steve explodes in laughter again and this sends Jonathan back into it too, feeling Steve grip his wrist for leverage as he fills the car with his cackling.It’s like they can’t stop, they’re just feeding off of each other, and every time they slow down a little they look at one another and along comes another fit.It’s really not that funny, but right now it really is.

He only stops because then he goes into a full-blown coughing fit, which just makes Steve laugh harder, by the way, and he’s too busy gasping for air to find anything funny for a second.

“Fuck,” he wheezes, trying to regain his composure.He leans back in the seat, staring out the windshield at the trees before them. “It’s really awful.It’s so awful.I felt so bad.I mean I properly talked to her about it afterwards, but that was the moment where I realized it.I don’t know why I didn’t just wait till afterwards.”

“So...what?” Steve puts his cigarette back between his lips, pulling out his lighter because it’s long since gone out.Jonathan’s glad he’s finally done laughing, because he’s not sure he can take any more. “You just weren’t into it?”

“I just don’t think I’m into... _that_.” _Stop_ , he tells himself, but it’s like the real Jonathan is trapped inside this clone whose sole purpose is to never shut its mouth.

“What, eating pussy?”

“You could say that.”

There’s a long pause, and Steve is looking at him, puzzled, like he’s waiting for more information or trying to make sense of their conversation, and then, Jonathan watches the realization wash over his face, and it almost makes him wince.What is he even doing?

“You’re...you like dudes?”

Jonathan stares down at his own burnt-out cigarette, only half smoked and still sitting between his fingers.  _This_  is exactly why he doesn’t talk, he reminds himself.Because whenever he does he’s either boring everybody with information or oversharing every obnoxious detail in his life.For basically no reason.He’s literally told, like, three people about this, and now he’s telling _Steve_?All because he gave him some free pot?This is a new world record, though, to be fair.It usually takes him at least a few weeks to say something to a potential friend that makes them look at him like he’s crazy.Then proceed to talk to him definitively less.

But Steve isn’t looking at him like that, he notes as he glances to his right.He doesn’t look...disgusted, or shocked, or like he really really wants Jonathan out of his car.He’s just _looking_  at him, waiting for him to answer his question.

Finally, he takes a deep breath, and decides to take the indirect approach. “I have no idea why I told you that.”

“No, no, it’s fine!” Steve says quickly, waving his hands at him. “It’s fine that you told me, I’m glad that you did!I mean, _fuck_ , I’m the one that asked!It’s cool!I just, I didn’t know.”

“Well clearly neither did I,” Jonathan says dryly, rolling his cigarette over in his hands.

Steve laughs softly as he leans back in his seat again and closes his eyes. “Better late than never, man.”

And that’s it.It’s that simple.

Steve turns the key, puts some music on, and jams out to something that Jonathan doesn’t recognize, and just like that, it’s like they had a conversation about the weather.Steve lights Jonathan’s cigarette back up and asks him whether he would rather have eyes for thumbs or thumbs for eyes, and as he stews over the question Jonathan has this major epiphany that it makes sense why everyone’s always liked Steve so much.Because he’s a good guy.He’s a good friend.

And somehow, luckily for him, he’s choosing to hang out with fucking Jonathan.


	3. The Countach

“My parents are out of town this weekend.”

Jonathan makes a noise of acknowledgement, scraping his spaghetti around on his tray.“Here’s an idea,” he says, not looking up from his food. “Let us know when your parents are _in_  town.It would save you a lot of time.”

Nancy’s giggle is a contrast to Steve’s eye roll, and it lingers quietly as he continues.“Listen.”He’s fiddling with his spoon between two fingers, snapping it up and down rhythmically. “What I’m saying is, party at my place.”

Party is a gross over-exaggeration.What Steve really plans to do is rent a couple movies, drink a couple beers, and take advantage of the house being open and empty in the most boring way possible.Used to, he would throw a _real_  get-together, invite everyone from school and go wild while his parents weren’t there to witness it, despite him being pretty certain they suspected as much to happen.But lately, he’s not so enamored with the chaos of house parties.He just wants to chill out, and Jonathan is always good company for it.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Jonathan says flatly, which earns another soft laugh from Nancy.And another eye roll from Steve as he sets his spoon down on the table.

“Okay, not an actual party,” he admits. “Just...a party of two.”

He pauses as Jonathan looks up at him, and his eyes widen when he realizes he’s being rude. “Or, three,” he corrects, turning to look at Nancy. “You should come too, Nance.”

She hums, working at her own spaghetti. “Maybe.I have a lot of homework.”

“Point taken,” he says curtly, ignoring her protests that it’s not like that, she really does, as he points a finger at Jonathan.

“Just you then.You busy this weekend?”

Before he would’ve braced himself for an excuse, as he always had when he prompted Jonathan to do something besides sitting around the house listening to music or taking pictures of the same shit in Hawkins that he’s photographed a thousand times.But lately Jonathan has been pretty eager to hang around with him, always accepting his invitations unless he absolutely can’t.School will be over on Wednesday, and at the beginning of his senior year, Steve had planned to spend his summer preparing to go to Purdue; practicing his basketball skills, collecting books from the library, and finding a part-time job.But now he’s more excited to get to hang out with Jonathan uninterrupted.He’s already formulated a lot of plans, and although the boy is always reluctant to commit ahead of time and seems to have to be convinced to do things last-minute, he’s pretty sure he’s gotten him to the point where he can drag him just about anywhere.

He and Jonathan have hit it off quickly, really.Steve watched him become visibly more comfortable after their conversation in the car, like a weight had been lifted off of him, and now he doesn’t seem so skittish.It makes Steve feel pretty good — he won’t lie — that he can get Jonathan’s guard down when it seems so impossible for everyone else.Even Nancy had seemed to have to work at him to get him to open up, and yet he did it so quickly with Steve, and just kept going.He’s learned a lot about Jonathan just in the past month or so.How he doesn’t have a favorite food because he just likes food too much to pick.How he wants to go to NYU but he’s considering something in Chicago or Washington as a his backup options.How his favorite season is fall because it’s nice outside but his allergies don’t act up.It’s superficial stuff, but it excites Steve to think that he knows more tiny details about Jonathan than almost anyone does.It excites him that he feels so willing to share.

Jonathan pulls his fork between his lips to lick it clean, eyes trained on Steve, and he notes that his dark circles don’t seem so prominent lately.“I work Sunday, but other than that I guess I don’t have anything better to do.”

“Gee.I’m flattered.”His sarcasm is only an attempt to mask his eagerness.He’s never actually had Jonathan over to his before, their time spent together consisting mostly of sitting in his idling car and talking until the sun starts to set.He’s not totally sure what he’s so excited about, but he supposes it can be chalked up to the fact that Jonathan is genuinely fun to be around.It’ll be a refreshing change of pace from his usually-quiet weekends, spent alone in his house while his parents are away.

The lights flicker to signal that lunch is almost over, and the three stand almost simultaneously, gathering up their stuff scattered about the table.

“Meet me after school then, yeah man?”Steve looks up to watch Jonathan toss his bag over his shoulder, stepping away from his seat.

“You’re paying to get my car out of impound when it finally gets towed from the parking lot.”

Steve knows him well enough to ascertain that that’s his version of a ‘yes’.

 

 

Steve turns a piece of popcorn over between his fingers, pulling it up close to his face as he examines it.“How do you think they make this?”

“Out of corn,” Jonathan answers flatly, taking a sip of his Coke as he stares at the TV.

“No, I mean the artificial butter stuff.Is it made out of real butter?”

Jonathan reaches into the bowl to pop a piece in his mouth, shrugging.He’s glad that he’s seen E.T. a couple times before, because Steve makes it shockingly difficult to focus.“Doesn’t it taste like real butter?”

“Kind of.”

“Then maybe it’s _kind of_  made of real butter.”

Steve seems satisfied with that answer because he shrugs and tosses it in his mouth, reaching for his own can of Coke as he chews.

Jonathan’s glad that Steve invited him over this weekend, even though he knows that he should be studying or doing something more productive than thinking about the ingredients of popcorn (which should be pretty self explanatory).His finals have been slowly wearing him down and the only relief he’s gotten from the stress is his time spent in the darkroom and his time spent shooting the shit with Steve.He’s weirdly good at stripping him of all his worries, even if it’s only temporary, and he kind of needs that right now.Maybe Steve could sense it and that’s why he’s sitting here today.

It’s uncannily like Steve can read his thoughts, because he stuffs another handful of popcorn in his mouth and asks, “How have finals been?”

“Incapacitating,” he says honestly, slumping a little further into the couch. “And probably failed, here soon.Since you’re not letting me study for them.”

Steve chuckles and jabs an elbow into Jonathan’s side, earning a scandalized ‘ _Ow_ ’.“You’ll be fine,” he assures. “You’re smarter than you think, you know.And I already know how smart you think you are.”

Jonathan glares a little, but it’s halfhearted, softened by the compliment he’d received.He’s still trying to work out why Steve is so nice to him, and he can’t discern a reason beyond the fact that he’s just a genuinely nice person.Sees the best in people and all that.He just has sort of a warm aura about him that Jonathan had never seen before, maybe hadn’t allowed himself to see, or had actively tried to ignore.Lately he’s been trying to stop questioning it and just accept it for what it is, because the more time he spends with Steve the less suspicious he is of ulterior motives.He’s just... _kind_.

They both stop talking for a moment, attention being piqued by the movie in front of them, and fall into a comfortable silence save for the occasional crunching of popcorn.They’re on their third and final VHS of the evening and darkness has fallen outside the window, the room only illuminated by the movement on the television.Despite the hour Jonathan isn’t really tired, and he’s glad the night is still relatively young, because time always seems to fly when he’s with Steve and before he knows it he’s back to the monotony.It’s kind of sad that it’s his only source of excitement, but maybe this is his first real taste of having an actual social life.It sort of makes sense to him now why people always look forward to the fleeting weekends.

He feels Steve’s eyes on him for a second and he’s about to turn and ask him if he can help him, but before he can, he feels a large hand on his knee and a crushing weight on it as Steve hoists himself up from the couch.

“Hey,” he says, and Jonathan can see a twinkle in his eye even in the dark of the room. “I have a surprise for you.”

Jonathan furrows his eyebrows, but he stands to follow Steve as he slips out of the room, flipping the lights on in the hall.

He still isn’t over how huge Steve’s house is, especially compared to his own, and he feels like he’s being led through a maze as he trails behind him, glancing around at the walls.It kind of feels like a museum in here, like it’s not actually occupied.No family photos, minimal clutter, just long halls and generic artwork arranged between doorways.It’s sort of depressing in a way, and he wonders how Steve spends so much time in here alone without going insane.Sure, everyone’s situation has advantages and disadvantages, something always to be desired, but from what he’s observed so far, Jonathan is glad he doesn’t lack the things that Steve does.It seems like he’s missing a lot of the important stuff.

Steve swings open one of the many doors, stepping aside for Jonathan to walk ahead of him, and he’s surrounded by pitch black and the smell of oil as he almost stumbles over his feet, Steve belatedly warning, “Steps.”

He blinks as the other touches a switch to illuminate the room, fluorescents firing up and dully buzzing above them.He can see Steve smile out of the corner of his eye as his mouth falls open and he takes a step forward.

“No _shit_ ,” he whispers. 

Sitting in front of him is a car that reminds him of a _spaceship_ , all sharp angles and and twists and bends.It’s black, and shiny, and aside from Steve’s house, he’s pretty sure it’s the most expensive thing he’s ever seen in person.

Steve laughs a little as he steps forward to touch it, gently as if he’s going to break it.“It’s my dad’s baby,” he says, watching Jonathan trace his fingertips down the hood. “I don’t know if you know shit about cars, but it’s a Countach.”

“A Lamborghini?” he breathes, staring at it like it’s about to materialize.Jonathan’s never been much for novelty.He’s not a materialistic person, doesn’t think _stuff_  defines the quality of your life, and he feels like he should be unimpressed, but this is sort of making him abandon his virtues.

“Yeah,” Steve chuckles, letting him take his time.

Jonathan looks up at him, his eyes full of almost childlike wonder.“It’s so cool.”Not very eloquent of him, but it’s all he can manage at the moment.

“Wanna know the best part?” Steve asks, and Jonathan cocks his head a bit, hand still resting on the shiny exterior.

Steve raises a closed hand, eyes trained on Jonathan’s, and opens it with a smug grin to reveal a set of keys, dangling off his middle finger.

Jonathan lets out a puff of breath, eyes wide.“I get to _ride_  in it?”

He scrambles to hold his hands out as Steve tosses the keys his way, snagging them on his fingers right before they drop to the ground.He gawks at him, watching him approach the left of the car.

“You get to drive it.”

“ _What_?No, no no.”He extends his hand out, prompting Steve to take them back.He feels like he shouldn’t even be holding them. “No way.This car is worth more than my life.”

“Relax,” Steve says casually as he opens the passenger side, as if he’s not asking Jonathan to willingly become an insurance claim. “I know you want to.”

“No, no I really don’t, Steve.”He shakes the keys outwards, desperate for them to be removed from his hand.

“Ehhhhh.”Steve tips his head back and forth, eyes up like he’s thinking hard. “Yes you do.”

“Steve,” Jonathan warns, hand falling to his side as it becomes increasingly clear that he’s not being listened to. “What if I wreck it?”

“You won’t,” he says flippantly, and before Jonathan can protest again he slips into the passenger seat and pulls the door shut.

Jonathan sighs exasperatedly, rushing around to the other side and climbing into the car.He pulls the door shut next to him, giving Steve a pleading look.

“I really can’t, Steve.”

He laughs, head resting against the seat as he turns to look at him.“Okay, fine.Just fire it up and rev the engine a little bit, then.You gotta hear it.”

“Okay,” he resigns, because he can live with that.Just being inside this car is more than enough for him.It’s a huge leap up from his own beater, and even Steve’s car which he always feels a little wrong smoking inside of.He puts the key in the ignition and turns it, and it starts up right away, the vibrations shooting through his fingers.

“Good, right?”

Jonathan lets out a breathy laugh as he looks at him, nodding.“Yeah.”

“Hit the gas.”

Jonathan hesitantly presses his foot to the pedal, almost jumping as the engine roars.Not like a lion, but more like a bobcat.It sounds smoother than any car he’s ever been in the proximity of.

He finally lets his excitement show as he lets out another laugh of disbelief, hitting the gas a little harder and feeling the tremor all the way up his foot.

“You ready to drive it now?”

Jonathan slowly turns to look at Steve, their eyes meeting simultaneously.

 

As soon as the car’s out of the garage and the windows are down and the radio is turned up, Jonathan’s nervousness is a distant memory.Steve praised him as he backed out, telling him he’s a better driver than he is, and whether or not he’s telling the truth, it gives him a bit of a glow.Well, adds to the glow that already comes with being in the driver’s seat of a Lamborghini.

“Hey!” Steve shouts over the music, and usually Jonathan would turn it down to hear him better, but the speakers are way too good for a moment to go to waste. “When you get out of the housing edition, turn left!I’m gonna get you to a good back road!”

After he nods there’s not a lot of speaking.Steve is singing unabashedly to Uptown Girl, thrumming his hands on the glove compartment, and Jonathan is grinning from ear to ear, pumped with the most adrenaline he’s had since he was last in _actual_ , immediate danger. 

“Turn here,” Steve points, and he obeys, hitting the corner a little bit harder than what he would in his own car, which makes Steve laugh, grabbing his shoulder and giving it a shake.“Yeah, there ya go!Drive it like you stole it!”

“I kinda did!” Jonathan shouts back, which only makes him laugh harder.He’s accelerating a little more as he starts to feel more comfortable, and even though the speedometer only reads 50, it feels like they’re flying right now.

“This road is all straight from here!” Steve encourages, hand still resting on his shoulder, and oddly Jonathan doesn’t feel like shaking it off.“Just gun it!”

He does as he’s told with no arguments, watching the dial climb and climb, and the trees surrounding them whiz past faster and faster.The harder he hits the gas the _nicer_  the engine sounds, and it’s almost addictive.A feeling of happiness has washed over him again, not unlike the one he’d felt when he sat in Steve’s car a month or so ago, laughing at the ridiculous questions he asked him.An indescribable contentedness in the midst of the moment, where he feels like nothing can touch him.He doesn’t want to slow down.He could do this forever.

Or, he could’ve.If he didn’t see red and blue lights.

“Shit.Oh, shit.”He cranks the music down, pumping the brakes because coasting down doesn’t really work when you’re going eighty miles per hour.“Steve!”

He glances to his right, and Steve has stiffened, staring straight ahead out the windshield.

“Steve, what do I do?”

“Well, I would pull over,” he suggests.

“Jesus, Steve.No kidding.”

He steers over to the shoulder of the road, knuckles white as he grips the steering wheel.His heart’s hammering in his chest, and not in the good way that it had been moments ago.

“I told you this was a bad idea,” he snaps, in a whisper even though he knows nobody’s going to hear him.

“Well there’s never cops on this road, that’s why I took you here!” Steve’s voice is just as low as Jonathan’s, like if they keep their voices quiet their presence will be a secret.

“Obviously that’s not true!”

“Not anymore apparently!”

“You—“He cuts off as a beam of light approaches the car, straightening his back, afraid to look.He’s never even been pulled over before, and now he’s gonna go to fucking jail for reckless driving and—

“You have got to be kidding me.”

His head whips to the left at the familiar voice, right as Steve shouts giddily, “Hopper!”

“Are you guys serious?” he asks gruffly, and Jonathan squints as the flashlight shines in his face, unsure whether he’s meant to answer that or not.

“Where did you even get this thing?”

“It’s....his...” Jonathan stammers, and Steve pokes his head out from next to him, finishing the sentence so he doesn’t have to.

“My dad’s.Nice, right?”

“Fast,” Jonathan adds, earning a sigh from the Chief.He has no idea why he even said that.

“Yeah, especially when you’re going double the speed limit,” he replies pointedly, and Jonathan doesn’t really know what to say to that.Fortunately for himself he says nothing.

There’s a long silence, the light still shining in Jonathan’s eyes, and he sort of feels like he’s gonna go blind but he doesn’t dare ask him to move it.He can still hear the engine humming languidly as the car idles, and the crickets outside, which are the only two things grounding him from a full-on panic.

“Just...”Hopper finally moves the flashlight downwards and out of Jonathan’s line of sight, and he breathes out for the first time in like a solid minute. “Just go home.Please.Slowly.I can’t deal with you two right now.”

Thank God.  _Thank God_.

 

“Oh my God, you should’ve seen your _face_.”

Jonathan stares silently at the road, both hands firmly positioned on the wheel.He sets his jaw, biting back the urge to say anything.

“You were like, ‘Steve!Steve!Steve!’”He doubles over in laughter, and Jonathan’s not sure if he has a sick sense of humor or if this is just how he reacts to disaster.Or maybe he just takes immense pleasure in making fun of him.It could be all of the above.

“It’s not funny,” he insists, but this only makes Steve laugh harder, practically wheezing as he tries to breathe.“It’s not!” he repeats, but now he can feel the hint of a smile dancing on his lips, because okay, maybe it’s a little funny.In a certain way.

Steve just continues cackling, and a grin slowly spreads across Jonathan’s face, his shoulders starting to relax. “It’s really not, Steve,” he says again, but he knows he doesn’t look or sound convincing at all.“I thought we were fucked.”

“So did I!”

Laughter erupts from Jonathan all at once, his whole body loosening up, and then they’re both losing it, their voices drowning out the whir of the engine.

He’s never experienced anything like this before.The pure euphoria of every moment with Steve.He prompts Jonathan out of his comfort zone, reminds him why it exists, then makes him forget again all in succession, a whirlwind of excitement that no one has ever offered him.He didn’t realize he wanted this, _needed_  it even, but he thinks that maybe he did.As cliché as it is, he’s sort of never felt so _alive_.

He props his elbow out the window as his laughter dies down, and he can feel Steve’s eyes settle on him and stay there.He glances to his left, smile still on his lips.

“What?” he demands, all the bite long since drained out of his voice.

Steve smiles at him for a moment, then just turns to stare back out the windshield, getting comfortable in his seat.

“Nothing.”


	4. The Commitment

So they did disobey a _teeny tiny_  bit when Hopper told them to go straight home.

Steve tilts his head back, his hands planted in the grass as he drinks in the cool evening air.It’s been hot out lately, the unpredictable Indiana weather finally settling into some seasonal normality as they sit on the outskirts of summer.But right now it feels perfect, a slight breeze cutting through the humidity and making it feel just _barely_ , almost chilly, in a welcome way.

He’d steered a reluctant Jonathan (who was very preoccupied with the speedometer) down another side road and off to a dead end, promising that he wouldn’t give him any more heart attacks this evening.He must trust him immensely for some odd reason because he’d done as he was told and parked the car as inconspicuously as possible, cloaked beneath the shadow of the trees, which are lush this time of year and shuddering softly each time the wind picks up.

“I should’ve brought my camera,” Jonathan muses, brushing his hair out of his face, and Steve decides not to inquire about whether he would even be able to get a good photo while it’s this dark out.

“You know,” he says, picking at a piece of grass, “I understand the merit of taking photos all the time.But maybe sometimes you should try to just enjoy moments while you’re in them.”

He turns to look at Jonathan, watching as he seems to turn this over in his mind.His hair is all mussed up, partially from the breeze and partially because of the habit he has to fuck with his hair while he’s driving.Steve had counted how many times he touched it just in the five minutes it took to get here, and it was somewhere between twelve and fifteen (he kept getting distracted by other things Jonathan was doing and lost count).  Jonathan has a lot of unusual mannerisms, ticks that Steve has been slowly taking note of over the past couple of weeks.  Like the way he chews on his lip when he’s concentrating and the way his mouth twists up when he’s trying not to laugh as he says something funny.  He’s starting to collect a list of his mannerisms, and he wonders if anyone else has one half as long.

Steve reaches a hand into his pocket to pull out his cigarettes, fishing two out of the pack.His and Jonathan’s shoulders are almost brushing, and the gap between their arms closes as he reaches up to place both cigarettes between his lips, lighting them simultaneously.He stares into the night sky as he passes one over, feeling Jonathan’s fingers fumble against his to grab it.The lit ends are the only illumination in sight as they both smoke in silence for a few moments.

“I told myself I wanted to make some good memories in Hawkins while I’m still here,” Steve says absently, reaching over his knees to ash into the grass.He can feel Jonathan’s gaze shift towards him as if to encourage him to continue.

“I have all these memories here.Like, a lot has happened.To all of us.But none of them are really happy memories.”He pauses, trying to decide how to articulate it.“They’re all either shitty or unremarkable.I kinda realized I’ve lived here for so long but was never really happy here.Or if I was I don’t really remember it.”

“Have you?” Jonathan asks.

“Hm?”

“Made any happy memories.”

Steve takes a slow drag off his cigarette, watching the smoke as he blows it into the air.“I’m starting to, yeah.I still have time.”

What he doesn’t mention to Jonathan is that he’s pretty much the sole reason he’s made any at all.There’s something so cinematic about the experiences he shares with him, like they’re scripted for an obscure film, every second perfect in its own individual way.It’s exactly what he had in mind when he made that promise to himself; fleeting moments of pure joy that he can remember distinctly, see in the back of his mind as he recalls them.He knows it’s partially due to the effort that he’s putting in to seek out excitement, taking risks and opening himself up to experiences he wouldn’t usually allow himself to have.But it’s also largely due to Jonathan, whose smile and cautious sense of wonder is the cherry on top of all their close-to-home adventures.They’ve had relatively few so far, but he feels like it’s just a small sample of what lays before them.He already has plenty of ideas.

Jonathan nods, working on his own cigarette, and before he can offer a response, Steve goes on.

“That’s why I say that about the camera.I feel like you might be missing out on some really great shit because you’re so busy trying to make it look pretty.”

“I guess I wouldn’t know,” Jonathan admits, pushing his hair back again.That’s sixteen.Or seventeen.  Apparently it isn’t exclusive to when he’s behind the wheel.

“I mean don’t get me wrong, you’re really talented,” Steve assures unnecessarily.“That’s why I—“

He comes to an abrupt halt, realizing what his sentence is about to turn into.As far as he’s aware Jonathan still thinks Nancy bought him the new camera for Christmas, and he always intended to keep it that way.In the beginning it was because he was certain Jonathan wouldn’t accept it if he had known that Steve was the one who got it for him.He’d felt guilty about it ever since...well, since Jonathan decked him good in the face, a multitude of times.  But the shame had worn on him more over time.Jonathan looked so naked without his camera around his neck, and he was pretty sure it was his only hobby so he felt that he’d robbed him of something really special.  _Known_  that he had, rather.He’d actually bought it only a couple weeks after Nancy and Jonathan started hanging around each other, but spent all the way until the holidays stewing over how to give it to him.Stewing over if he even should.He didn’t want him to think his doing so was performative, and he knew it would be construed that way.

Then, when the opportunity of using Nancy as a vessel presented itself, he didn’t want to take that away from her.He essentially gifted her the opportunity of gifting it to Jonathan.It’s not his to steal away, and it’s better left unsaid.

But few things fly under Jonathan’s radar.

“That’s why you...what?”

“Uh,” Steve clears his throat. “I don’t know.I kind of lost the train of thought.”

Jonathan simply hums his acknowledgement, but he sounds unconvinced, like he knows Steve’s just trying to drop the subject.

_Oh, you know what?  Fuck it all._

“I bought you the camera.”

And just like that, it’s out in the open.

Steve can see Jonathan’s eyes widen even in the darkness, his lips parting in surprise as he stammers for words.“You...you did?”

Steve nods, finishing off the last of his cigarette and snuffing it out on the sole of his shoe.He sees Jonathan’s mouth open fully like he’s about to speak, and cuts him off before he can.

“Please don’t start thanking me.Seriously.I shouldn’t have done what I did in the first place.It doesn’t even balance it out.” 

Jonathan obeys, albeit reluctantly, in favor of just staring at him silently like he’s trying to figure out what to say.

“I know I said that I’m sorry for how things went down,” Steve continues, staring straight ahead, “but I’m sorry for that.In particular.I know your photography means a lot to you.”

He almost jumps as Jonathan tips his head to rest it on his shoulder.His hair is still going in a million different directions, and it tickles Steve’s cheek a bit as the breeze hits them.

It’s a gesture that he supposes says more than just ‘thank you’.It says that on top of ‘I forgive you’ and most importantly, something along the lines of ‘I trust you’, which is by far the most important piece to Steve.He’s never really seen Jonathan be physically affectionate with anyone.Not even with Nancy when the two of them were together, though perhaps the reasons for that are unrelated to his likeliness to do such a thing.But he knows that his willingness to be this close to him is a privilege, and a testament to his level of comfort, and for Jonathan to be comfortable with him is something that Steve can admit to himself that he’s wanted for a long time.

“I wanna thank you for something else,” Jonathan says, his soft voice carrying in the quiet.

For some reason Steve longs to touch him.He wants to wrap his arm around him and sit like this forever.Affection is swelling up in his chest and he doesn’t know what to do with all of it, just wants to give Jonathan the longest hug in the world and bury his face in his messy hair.He’s never had that level of friendship with anyone before, where he cares for them so much that it almost makes him ache.It feels like it’s on a whole different plane than anything he’s experienced with anyone else.But he’s afraid that if he so much as moves he’ll spook Jonathan off his shoulder, and he’s not willing to risk it, so he just sits still.

“What’s that?”

Steve can’t see the smile spread across Jonathan’s face, but he can hear the hint of laughter in his voice as he replies, “For talking me into driving that thing.”

He laughs and Jonathan softly does the same, his head lolling back but not moving away.Steve adds this to the file of perfect moments, of good memories that he wants to carry with him forever.

“I knew you wanted to,” he says pridefully, and Jonathan doesn’t deny it.

“I wanna make memories, too,” Jonathan decides, tossing his own cigarette butt into the dewy grass.

“Are you really gonna go to New York?” Steve asks, and he gets a nod in response, disappointed to feel Jonathan shuffling off his shoulder and sitting back up straight.Another delicious moment that he wishes he could’ve savored more, slipping away just like that.

“I mean...yeah,” he replies, reaching up and fiddling with his hair again, but improving it a bit this time. “It would really help me land on my feet and make something out of my photography.”

“And is that what you want to do?”Steve’s not totally sure why he asks that.He supposes it’s because Jonathan sounds almost scripted, like he’s just reciting a line with no feeling.Almost like it came from someone else.Another person, or perhaps just an older version of himself.

Jonathan seems to think for a moment, fiddling with the seam of his jeans. “It’s what I’ve wanted since I was a kid,” he reasons, and it almost sounds like he’s trying to convince himself rather than Steve.

He doesn’t want to drill him too hard so he just nods in understanding, stores the topic away for later, labeling it something he’ll revisit perhaps when they’re closer or when Jonathan isn’t so sober.The summer will give them plenty of opportunities to open up and talk about everything, and he can feel that Jonathan’s finally starting to bare his thoughts a little more plainly to him.He’s not so selective about what he does and doesn’t say.

“Well,” he says, steering the subject onwards, “don’t leave Hawkins just yet.Mentally, I mean.We still have a whole summer to make sure you miss it when you go to New York.”

Jonathan sniffs, a small smile flickering on his face.“I’d like to miss it,” he says softly, and Steve’s not sure what to make of the wistfulness in his tone, besides that there must be something he’s looking for and hasn’t found yet.Not so unlike himself.

“If nothing else, I’ll make sure you miss me,” Steve declares, turning to smirk at Jonathan and earning a soft laugh, one that brings with it dimples and twinkling eyes.

“I’m sure the basketball team will miss you enough for the both of us.”

It only stings a tiny bit in Steve’s chest that Jonathan had dodged the opportunity to say something warmer, but he’s not sure why it does at all, and he masks it with a chuckle.

He supposes he’s just searching for a level of intimacy with him, a companionship closer and more honest than one he’s ever had with any of his high school friends.  One that’s built to last, that can perhaps withstand even the impending changes in their lives.  He almost starts to wish that he had become truly acquainted with Jonathan sooner, had the opportunity to spend more time with him and build a more solid foundation.  But he realizes that maybe if things had happened any differently than how they had, they wouldn’t’ve panned out right.  Maybe things have fallen into place exactly how the universe intended them to, at just the right time.

Things have a funny way of working out how they’re supposed to, so he’ll make sure the summer is as perfect as possible.  And everything else will follow suit.


	5. The Graduation

Steve is graduating today.

Jonathan admires Steve’s overall nonchalantness about the whole thing.He knows that when his graduation day comes, he’s going to be shaking so hard he might not be able to throw his own cap in the air.It’s not like there’s anything that really has the potential to go wrong.It’s just something about ceremonies in general, the formality of them and the atmosphere.But Steve is just his usual suave and relaxed self.Nothing really seems to faze him.

He supposes it makes sense that something as standard as a school-hosted event doesn’t make Steve nervous, after everything he’s seen and been through.  Leave it to Jonathan to still be afraid of normal, human experiences despite spending parts of the last two years fighting literal monsters.

He reaches up and adjusts Steve’s cap for him, moving his tassel over to the correct side.“You ready?” he asks, and Steve nods, tossing his cigarette out the open window.

“Born ready.Let’s roll.”

They both emerge from Steve’s car, stepping into the parking lot.Jonathan drives his own car very little lately, he’s noticed.Save for when he goes to work on a handful of evenings, he and Steve have been nothing short of inseparable since school ended a couple of weeks ago.The start of the summer has been full of hot days spent running around town and cool evenings spent by the pool, the fleeting darkness energizing them while it’s still alive. They really haven’t done anything all too remarkable, other than going on the occasional roadie, but it’s been nice.It’s been a period in which he and Steve have gotten to know each other, learned little details about one another and strengthened the bond that it’s no longer deniable that they have.

A bond that’s perhaps a little different on Jonathan’s end, but no less certain.

His crush on Steve hasn’t gone away, but he thinks he’s gotten it pretty well under control.Sometimes he stares at him for a long time and finds himself tracing the lines of his face, his prominent nose and his sculpted jawline and the freckles on his left cheek, because he still thinks he’s gorgeous and his personality (which Jonathan is becoming increasingly better acquainted with) isn’t helping to combat that opinion.But he’s good at shutting those feelings off.He has it at a level where he’s confident that he can maintain a relationship with Steve without anything getting messy in the background.And even if he didn’t, he doesn’t think he would have the willpower to shy away.This is the first taste of genuine friendship that he’s gotten since childhood, and that’s really not worth giving up for anything.

“I can’t believe I’m almost done with this place,” Steve remarks as they cross the parking lot, making their way around the school.

”Must be nice,” Jonathan says flatly, earning a laugh from next to him.

He’s never been to one of the school’s graduation ceremonies before, not that he’s probably missing all that much.It’s one of the few school events where they outsource a photographer rather than recruiting him to do it for the much cheaper price of _free_ , so he’s never had a reason to be here, really.It’s as ceremonious as any of their school events — large banners spread across the goal posts of the football field and balloons tied up every few yards along the bleachers — but the number of chairs lined up are blatantly indicative of the size of their town.He eyes it all as they approach, taking it in, and he kind of wonders if graduation is as big a deal as everyone makes it out to be.It’s an achievement, sure, but it almost feels a bit over the top.

Steve claps him on the shoulder when they’re due to part ways, but Jonathan is already preoccupied with the filling bleachers, where Nancy is waving hurriedly, clearly surprised to see him.Probably even more surprised to see him arm to arm with Steve, he realizes.It’s not that they’ve kept their growing friendship a secret from Nancy, really, but she made a couple of friends from her math class and was sort of scarce for the final couple of weeks of school.Jonathan hasn’t even spoken to her since the last day, and it’s kind of surreal to think about that.When everything was going on last year, he’d been so sure that Nancy would be a permanent part of his life.And now, she’s just an old friend who feels more like an acquaintance.

Still, she ushers him over and he accepts the invitation, climbing the few sets of stairs between himself and where she sits.Regardless of the nature of his and Nancy’s relationship these days, it’s nice to see a familiar face and know he doesn’t have to sit here alone.She picks her bag up and places it in her lap as he approaches, leaving him room to settle in next to her.

“Hey,” she says brightly, and it immediately reminds Jonathan why he was drawn to Nancy in the first place.Her sunny disposition and airy voice, just the overall presence she has.

“Hey,” he says, turning to smile at her, and she looks genuinely happy to see him.  It makes him feel kind of awful.

“I didn’t know you and Steve were close,” she observes, squinting into the sun as she turns to look at Jonathan.

“Oh, uh, yeah,” he replies almost sheepishly, staring out into the field and watching the powder blue gowns scurrying around. “We’ve been hanging out lately.”

“Who would’a thought,” she chuckles, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

No kidding.  Jonathan never expected to even have a close friend from high school after everything that happened with Nancy, and he definitely didn’t expect it to be Steve.  Though to be fair, things haven’t been going as expected for a while now.

“We’re going to Chicago tomorrow,” he says, shifting in his seat. “Just for a couple of days.”

“Oh!”Her look of surprise is back and clearer than ever.“Well that’s...good, Jonathan!I think getting out of Hawkins for a bit would be good for you.”

That’s exactly what Steve had said when he posed the idea.Well, not really an idea at that point.He’d already booked a hotel room by the time he decided to let him know, presumably so that saying no wouldn’t really be an option for him.He’d tried to argue that going out of town directly contradicted their intentions to make memories here, but Steve urged him to view it as a separate thing entirely.He wanted to do something exciting and different, and he wanted Jonathan to be there with him.It was sort of hard to say no to that.

“Yeah, I know,” he agrees. “It just makes me nervous.”

Nancy smiles in understanding, reaching to place a reassuring hand on his knee.It doesn’t feel quite how it does when Steve does it.

“It’s over now, Jonathan.You’re not a prisoner.”

He nods, because he knows she’s right.Aside from the news presence and the buzz during the tail end of ‘84, Hawkins is a quiet town again, where nothing really happens.Will is doing well, and so is his mom, and he knows that logically, nothing bad will come of leaving town for a day or two.But it still fills him with a sense of dread, like the moment he turns his back on Hawkins, shit will hit the fan again.

Nancy pats his knee as if to drive her point home as the speakers blare with a tap on the microphone.He wonders idly if this will be the last real conversation he ever has with her, but then things are starting up, and he doesn’t have time to dwell on it.

One good thing about a small school is that everyone has their diploma in hand relatively efficiently.The valedictorian (Jonathan’s not sure if her name is Shannon or Sharon) gives the expected cheesy speech about their lives being different now, and there must be something wrong with him because it actually touches him a little bit.Then the caps are flying in the air, casting shadows under the hot sun.Jonathan snaps a picture of it that he’s not sure will turn out, but the thinks that Steve would probably like to have it.

And then like that, it’s over, and a chapter of 90-some-odd people’s lives is closed.

Jonathan and Nancy exchange a polite wave as he steps out of his seat, making a beeline for Steve.He’d never say it out loud, because it sounds way too needy, but he almost feels a bit weird when he’s not with him.  Like he’s just so used to having him by his side that when he’s not, he doesn’t know what to do with himself.  Which is not only sort of sad, but just...a lot, considering they’ve only been genuine friends for a little over a month.  There’s just something that clicked recently.  A sort of energy between them.

Steve grins at Jonathan as he approaches, his eyes visibly lighting up, and Jonathan smiles back, unabashedly.  Steve’s hair isn’t in his usual quiff today.  Not for lack of trying, but because he’d discovered after spending fifteen minutes in the bathroom that his cap wouldn’t fit over the top of it (Jonathan had laughed at this until he couldn’t breathe).  Instead it’s flopping loosely over his forehead, hanging into his eyes.  Jonathan thinks it suits him.

“How does it feel?” he asks, straightening his camera around his neck.

“Weird, I guess,” Steve admits, but he doesn’t seem shaken up.

“I’m sorry your parents couldn’t make it.”

Steve hums, awkwardly fishing an arm under his gown to dig in into his pants pocket. “They could’ve made it if they wanted to.They just didn’t.”

Jonathan has noticed that all jokes aside, Steve’s parents really aren’t around much at all.His dad is almost always away on business and more often than not his mother tags along, leaving the house empty for Steve to roam.Despite the amount of time they’ve spent together, Jonathan has only met Steve’s mom once, briefly, and she seemed about as interested in him as she was in her own son.A quick kiss on Steve’s head and an absent goodbye to Jonathan and she was out the door and headed to wherever it was she was going.It had made Jonathan feel sort of bad, but he hadn’t made much mention of it.

He watches as Steve places a cigarette in his mouth, patting himself down for his lighter.“That’s shitty,” Jonathan says. “I’m sorry.”

Steve waves the apology off, giving up his search for his lighter and tucking his cigarette behind his ear instead. “Don’t sweat it.Come on.”

Jonathan hangs back awkwardly as Steve shakes people’s hands and chats with everyone, knowing he doesn’t really belong in any of their conversations.He knows he himself won’t have a lot of people excited to see him graduate, but at least his family will be there, which is a comforting thought.He’s glad that if nothing else he can be here for Steve, even if it’s not the same as his parents’ support.It’s a different kind of companionship, he supposes, but he can tell it means a lot to him.

He snaps a few pictures of Steve while he’s laughing or deep in conversation, and some of the crowd and the sun shining over them.He knows this isn’t really a special moment for him, but it is one for Steve, and maybe this can count as one of his memories.He doesn’t really know what the qualifications for it are, but this is an important moment regardless.

Then things slowly start to clear out, and Steve says his goodbyes to everyone while Jonathan heads back to the car.It’s getting hot now, really hot, and despite his thin tee shirt Jonathan is starting to sweat and feel generally pretty gross.He brushes his hair off his forehead just as Steve joins him by the car, finally finding his zippo and lighting his cigarette.

“Your gown looks sexy by the way,” Jonathan points out, smiling mischievously up at Steve.

“I’ll show you sexy when we share a motel room,” Steve retorts, raising his eyebrows up and down, and Jonathan grumbles both at the mention of Chicago, and the fact that it nearly makes him blush.

 

Jonathan swirls his foot around in the water, watching the little ripples it creates as he takes a hit of his cigarette.He never actually smoked before he met Steve, save for every now and again, but it seems to be a habit he’s picked up now that he has free access all the time.He should probably stop before it becomes a nuisance, but it’s sort of just part of the experience of sitting around doing nothing with Steve. 

It’s getting late, later than he and Steve should really be awake when they plan to leave so early in the morning, but time seems to get away from them a lot.

“I wanna make a list,” Steve says suddenly.He’s inches away from where Jonathan sits, laying back on the concrete with his feet dangling into the pool and a cigarette sitting between his own lips.

“Of what?”

“Stuff I wanna do this summer.In Hawkins.”

Jonathan ashes his cigarette next to the pool, turning to look at him. “Staying _in_  Hawkins might be a good first step.”

Steve laughs, his shoulders moving up and down.“I thought we agreed that you were excited.”

“ _You_ agreed to that,” Jonathan says, but he knows Steve is aware that he’s lying.He _is_  excited, in all honesty.Nervous, but excited.Steve promised to take him to an art museum, and he knows there’ll be plenty of cool things to take pictures of, and even the prospect of spending time with Steve on its own is appealing to him. 

“Oh, give it a rest,” Steve chuckles, turning over on his side to face Jonathan and propping his head up on his hand.“How is it that you wanna go to New York but you’ll barely even come to Chicago with me?”

It’s a good question.Jonathan stares into the water, mulling over it.New York has been his dream for a long time.But lately he _has_  been questioning it, has been ever since Will first disappeared.It’s not just that he’s afraid to leave his family alone and disappear states away where he can’t be there for them.It’s also because he thinks he’s gotten a stronger grasp on what matters to him, what’s truly important, and it’s not the setting that he’s in.It’s the people that he’s in it with.

Steve can seemingly sense his hesitation, because he looks up at him, breathing a soft, “Hey.”

Jonathan turns his head so that their eyes can meet.The water is reflecting sparkling blue on Steve’s face, dancing around on his skin.

“Five years,” Steve says, his free hand holding up said number of fingers. “In five years, what do you want your life to look like?”

Jonathan turns back to stare into the pool and pouts a bit as he thinks, tapping the surface of the water with his toe.The answer is actually surprisingly easy.It has nothing to do with college, or career choice, or location.

“I want to be in love.”

He can see Steve’s smile out of the corner of his eye, one that he can only describe as fond, and it makes a warm feeling swell up in the pit of Jonathan’s chest.

“I didn’t know you were so romantic,” Steve teases, but when Jonathan turns to shoot him an annoyed glance, he can see that his smile is still genuine.

The corner of Jonathan’s own lips threaten to curve up in the slightest, and he looks away, eyes training on the woods across from them. “I’ve just...been thinking lately that the things you do don’t matter as much as the people you do them with.”

“You’re right,” Steve says without hesitation, sitting up to rear his arm back and throw his cigarette over the pool and into the grass.

They’re both quiet for a moment, listening to the movement of the water and the sounds of the woods.Rustling leaves and frogs croaking in the still of the night.

“I’m glad you came over that day,” Jonathan says softly, putting his own cigarette out on the concrete.

He is.He knows that if Steve hadn’t taken the initiative, he would’ve been sitting by himself in his room, just waiting for the days to go by.And now here he is, sitting by a pool with Steve Harrington, preparing to leave the state with him tomorrow, and it’s so different from anything he ever would’ve expected but he’s so content with how things are. 

Steve reaches over to ruffle his hair, something that Jonathan’s noticed he does as a gesture of affection, a casual touch to let him know he cares.It makes him laugh a little, halfheartedly trying to shove him off.

“Me too,” Steve says, his hand lingering on Jonathan’s head, which is also standard procedure.It’s one of the many touches that Jonathan savors, drinks up all of while it lasts.He’s found that he likes physical affection in general, and always has, but he loves it from Steve in particular.Probably partially for obvious reasons, but also because Steve’s touches bear a certain sort of protective comfort. 

However, it only remains for a few moments before Steve moves to lift himself off the ground, bracing his weight on the rim of the pool.“Come on,” he says. “We should sleep.”

Jonathan mutters his agreement, even though he just wants to stay out here forever.  Tomorrow, they’re going to be the furthest from home he’s been in a long time, and it’s nothing, really, but to him it’s a big deal.

And he knows Steve knows that.  He knows that’s why he won’t let him refuse.

He swings his legs out of the pool and pulls himself to his feet, scurrying after Steve and back towards his house.


	6. The Windy City

If Steve had known that a trip like this would make Jonathan so happy, he would’ve taken him on it ages ago.Like, an entire month ago when they first started hanging out.It’s weird to think that it’s only been that long.It feels like it’s been forever in a certain way.

I-65 isn’t exactly a scenic route.So far they’ve seen little more than cornfields and intermittent billboards advertising a dairy farm that seems to be a popular tourist attraction, but they’re coming up on their second toll booth now and he can see that Jonathan is getting pleasantly antsy in the passenger seat.Their surroundings are becoming increasingly urban, trees and farmland being replaced by neighborhoods and train tracks, and Jonathan is alternating between snapping pictures out the window and turning to grin at Steve.

“Where are we?” he asks, fiddling with his camera absently, his gaze fixed on the buildings below.It looks residential — tiny brick houses packed side by side on every street — and nothing about it would indicate that Hawkins, Indiana is only a couple of hours away.

“Hammond,” Steve answers, reaching for his coffee in the center console. “You can practically _taste_  Chicago now, right?”

Jonathan brings his camera up to snap another picture. “Are you talking about the fumes?”

Steve laughs, pulling his sunglasses down over his eyes.They left at seven this morning, much to their dismay after being up by the pool until around midnight, and although it had been overcast in the early hours, the farther they go up north the sunnier it seems to be getting.It almost feels like a sign, like things are brighter up here, and if nothing else, Jonathan is, and he likes that.

He’s been pestering Jonathan lately about whether he really wants to go to New York a year from now, but Steve can see that the city really breathes life into him, like the quiet atmosphere of Hawkins is bringing him down.He wonders if maybe this is the purest form of Jonathan, the person that he really is when he’s not cloaked under the dreariness of small town life, and if that’s the case, then maybe he belongs in this setting after all.In a way he doesn’t really like to think about that, though.The prospect of someone who’s becoming a close friend leaving and being that far away kind of gets him down. 

But that’s not important right now.

The music is blaring as they cross over into Illinois, one of Jonathan’s mixtapes that he insisted on bringing, and Steve is pointing out little landmarks to him as they pass by, and it’s exactly how he imagined it, if not better.He knows that Jonathan is right about this not counting as a memory made in Hawkins, but he would dare to say that he’s more interested in making memories with _Jonathan_  than in any particular place.It’s hard not to want to spend time with him when he’s beaming the way that he is.

“You’re gonna love the hotel,” Steve says smugly, resting his elbow out the window.

“I know,” Jonathan says, glancing at him with a smile. “You’ve only told me about ten times.”

“Okay, Debby Downer.It’s worth telling you about it ten times, trust me.”

Jonathan hums, raising his eyebrows like he isn’t convinced, and turns to the window to look out the viewfinder of his camera again.

“We’re gonna go look at a bunch of cool shit,” Steve muses, keeping an eye on the exits, “and then we’re gonna go back to the hotel and sit on our fancy bed and get totally wasted.”

“ _Bed_?” Jonathan echoes, putting his camera down to look at him. “You only got one bed?”

“Yeah, are you saying you don’t wanna cuddle?‘Cause that hurts my feelings, Jonathan.”

“Oh my God.Just shut up,” Jonathan groans, laughter threatening to seep into his voice.He turns to watch as they pass a train littered with surprisingly good graffiti.“If you steal the blankets in the middle of the night you’re sleeping in the bathtub.”

“Deal.”

He was originally going to tell Jonathan that a one-bed room had been all that was available, but he decides not to bother since he doesn’t seem all too upset anyways.The truth is, he probably could’ve gotten a two-bed if he wanted, he just hadn’t even asked about them.He preferred the idea of sharing a bed, laying around drinking and talking about everything, and passing out in close proximity to one another.Something about sleeping in separate beds feels so forced.They have so few boundaries when it comes to everything else, so why should they sleep across the room from each other?It just seems like a social expectation that there’s no reason for them to follow.

Jonathan cranes his head towards the window as they take their exit, trying to drink in all the scenery, and Steve smiles at him, more interested in his reaction than what he’s actually looking at.He’d like to see Jonathan like this all the time.He’s going to be working out ways to get him this happy again forever.

 

“This is making me nervous.I’m nervous.I’m nervous.”

“Steve cu— hey, cut the wheel that way.  _No_ , left, cut it left.”

“I am cutting it left!”

“No you’re not!”

Steve huffs exasperatedly, staring into the rear view at the car parked behind them.

“Here,” Jonathan says, waving a hand. “Switch me, let me do it.”

So maybe the city is a bit more of a culture shock than they thought it would be.Once they actually got into the heart of it, the traffic started getting insane, and there’s cars everywhere either going way too fast or way too slow and _everyone_  is honking for what seems to be no discernible reason.It would be a little easier if Steve had told him ahead of time that he _can’t_  parallel park, Jonathan thinks, but as they’re shuffling around to opposite sides of the car, he’s just glad that they’ve made it here in one piece.

They can’t check into their _wonderful_  hotel until three, and it’s only about ten in the morning, so Steve has worked out a day full of sightseeing and dawdling around in the city.He wants Jonathan to try real Chicago pizza, and take him past the Lucas Oil Stadium, and just ‘look at stuff’, as he had put it.But they can’t do that until they’re, well, not in the car. The hotel parking lot isn’t accessible to them until they’ve checked in, so they have to settle for an off-street spot across from a bar that is admittedly a little bit tight, even for someone who knows what they’re doing.

Still Jonathan parks with little difficulty, Steve pestering him about where he learned to do that and Jonathan assuring him that he literally just learned from his mom, and then that’s over and they’re ready to roll.

Their first stop is a pizza place called Spacca Napoli, which Steve practically makes Jonathan collapse trying to pronounce in an Italian accent, and Jonathan takes pictures of it all; the quaint storefront, the people sitting outside laughing and smoking cigarettes, and the food itself.Steve is pleased that Jonathan likes it as much as he expected he would and Jonathan is pleased that Steve is happy about it.

Then they hit a little family owned café despite Jonathan’s insistence that he can’t possibly eat any more.Steve buys them a couple of overpriced scones and he picks at it even though he has no room left, because it _is_  pretty good.The iced coffee that comes with them is much more welcome, because although he’s energized by the atmosphere of the city, his eyes are still heavy from getting so little sleep.

“Worth leaving Hawkins alone by itself?” Steve asks as they walk side by side, meandering through as if they know the place.He’s already finished his scone and Jonathan has no idea where he puts it all.

Jonathan nods, sipping his coffee.It was definitely a step out of his comfort zone but he’s happy, and he’s finding himself worrying about what’s going on back home much less than he expected to.

“I think New York will suit you,” Steve says, smiling slightly at him. “It’s...you’re different here.Good different.”

Jonathan smiles back, nodding slightly.Steve is right.When he’s in the city he feels like a giant weight has been lifted off his shoulders, like everything just seems a little brighter.Especially on such a beautiful and sunny day like today.Even though it’s mid-May, it’s not even all that hot.The breeze is cutting through the heat and making it feel just about perfect outside.

“Listen,” Steve says, slinging an arm around Jonathan’s shoulder and pulling him close to his side.Usually Jonathan would squirm away, but he’s become comfortable with Steve touching him.It just feels natural. “You belong in a place like this, okay?All that talk about whether or not you really wanna go to NYU...fuck that shit, man.It’s your dream.”

Jonathan looks up at him and smiles, meeting his eyes sincerely.Their noses are just centimeters apart, and with the jostling of their walking it’s a wonder they don’t bump them together.He wants to say something, but he’s not sure what, so he just stares at him, at his brown eyes and the softness of them as he looks at him.For a moment, it feels almost like he might close the gap between them, like it just seems like the right thing to do.He can practically feel electricity buzzing between them, this tension that he just wants to break, and maybe, just maybe—

“‘Scuse me!”

Their heads both whip to the side at the voice, trying to find the source of it.It’s found in the form of a crazy-haired girl with coke-bottle glasses and a camera not so dissimilar to Jonathan’s slung around her neck, staring up at them.It’s not often that Jonathan feels big next to anyone, but he practically dwarfs her.

“Yup?” Steve asks, and he almost sounds annoyed at the interruption.It dawns on Jonathan all at once that their position moments ago had been _really_  confusingly intimate, and they might be about to get ripped for it.It makes his heartbeat go from steady to hammering in a matter of moments.Here he is, not even actually being gay, and he’s about to get a verbal lashing for being gay.

“Sorry,” she says, tucking a knot of hair behind her ear, and her sheepish tone eases his fear, because who apologizes before calling someone a faggot? “It’s just...you guys are a really cute couple, and I think it’s so cool that you don’t seem to care, ya know?I was just wondering if I could get a picture of you.”

Jonathan stammers a little, holding his hands up.He can still feel Steve’s arm around his shoulder and he knows it won’t help his case. “Oh, we...we’re not—“

“ _That_ cute,” Steve interrupts, earning an incredulous look from Jonathan.He tugs him closer against his side, scrunching him up beneath his arm. “Unless you’re just talking about him.”

She giggles a little, a squeaky sound that sort of hurts Jonathan’s ears, which he feels kinda mean for even thinking.“So...is that a yes?”

Jonathan’s cheeks are burning hot, and they were already a little flushed from the warmth outside but now he’s sure he’s beet red.He’s so confused right now, about what the hell Steve is doing, about why, and about this entire situation as a whole.

“Sure,” Steve says, loosening his grip a bit around Jonathan’s neck.Her head bobs in excitement and Jonathan looks up at Steve just as the camera shutter clicks, to see him smiling as if everything is normal and he didn’t just let a stranger believe that Jonathan is his boyfriend.Steve drops his arm and Jonathan’s about to breathe a sigh of relief, but then he starts pulling at the strap around his neck.

“Can you get one on ours, too?” Steve asks, and Jonathan ducks to grant him possession of the camera, letting him slip it over his head.

He hands it over to the girl, settling his arm around Jonathan again as she becomes acquainted with it, and Steve must be dissatisfied with his expression, because when she brings it up to focus the picture, he leans over to Jonathan’s ear and whispers, “Spacca Napoli,” and Jonathan loses it just as she snaps a photo, eyes crinkling with laughter.

Steve thanks her has she hands the camera back to him and goes on her way, and Jonathan grabs his arm with the intention of being serious, but he’s still fighting the smile from his lips. “Why would you say that?”

Steve shrugs, taking a sip of his coffee as he starts walking again, and Jonathan lurches to catch up, scrambling back to his side.“It just makes it awkward when people assume you’re dating and you have to correct them,” Steve replies. “It’s easier just to roll with it.”

“But—“

“Besides, isn’t it fucking cool?” he demands, grinning at him. “Nobody would ever do that in Hawkins.People don’t care here.”

“Well, I’m sure some people care,” Jonathan argues, even though he’s right.He definitely feels safer here, like he’s just a face in the crowd.Like he could’ve _actually_  kissed Steve back there and it wouldn’t have mattered, and fuck, he doesn’t know why he’s even thinking like that, it would’ve been a terrible idea.

“Just enjoy it,” Steve says, his hand coming back to rest on his shoulder, and Jonathan’s glad for it.It just feels right. “You can be yourself here.”

He scoffs, rolling his eyes at the comment.“You sound so cheesy.Just stop.”

“Okay, okay, fine, sorry,” Steve concedes, giving his shoulder a squeeze. “I’m serious though, about the city being right for you.”

“Stop!” Jonathan laughs, giving him a shove, and Steve just grins, steering him down the sidewalk.In all honesty he doesn’t mind Steve being cheesy so much.That’s just how he is, and it’s something he likes about him, something he wouldn’t change.He’s not sure that there’s anything he doesn’t like about Steve, really.That almost sort of scares him.

They still have a few hours to kill before they can settle into the hotel, so Steve starts going on about the ideas he has for the day, and Jonathan just smiles and goes with it, because he’d be happy to do just about anything right now.


	7. The Music

Even though checking into the hotel had been the end goal, they don’t end up doing so until around five.

First they get a little bit lost, which Jonathan insists is a thing that’s happening and Steve denies until their surroundings start looking suspiciously unsavory, and he decides to finally buy a map out of fear.

Then they get caught up in the shopping scene in the center of town, because Jonathan has never seen a Macy’s with three floors before and he can’t deny that he’s marveling at the ritziness of it all.Steve is starting to realize that for someone who’s grown up in such a poor family, and never really seemed to mind it, Jonathan is drawn to luxury.Maybe it’s just because it’s new and exciting and he’s never really experienced it before.

He refuses to let Steve buy him anything because he’s already paid for pizza and pastries and promised to pay for their dinner as well, and he concedes to that for now even though he fully intends on spoiling him further throughout the duration of the trip.There’s something about spending money on Jonathan that makes him feel fulfilled.Steve’s never been shy about forking over his cash in general, since it’s not even actually _his_  at all, but Jonathan’s wide-eyed excitement and gratitude when he spends money on him in particular is an extra strong motivator.He isn’t always the best at expressing his affection for people, but spoiling them is easy, and comfortable and effective.And Jonathan appreciates even tiny gestures more than anyone he’s bought anything for ever has.

Which is why the fancy hotel he booked is one-hundred percent worth it.

Jonathan’s impressed by the coffee bar in the lobby, the huge indoor pool and the unreasonably large bathroom complete with a shower _and_  a tub.He insists that Steve didn’t need to go this crazy on it but his excitement is enough to make it all worth it, and Steve assures him that it’s necessary to be a bit lavish on his first trip to the city.He promises that it’s really not a burden and he’s _staying in this hotel too, you know_.Still Jonathan is, as anticipated, endlessly thankful, and he looks like a kid in a candy store while he observes everything, and Steve absolutely loves it.

Jonathan steps out of the bathroom, ruffling a fuzzy towel in his hair, and grinning at Steve from ear to ear.The sky has darkened outside the picture windows, giving way to the lights starting to flood throughout the city, and he’s already clad in his worn pajama pants, which are almost comedically long on his short frame. 

“That shower,” he says, “is...”

“Awesome?” Steve offers, earning an eager nod.He laughs, shuffling over on the bed to grab the red solo cup he had filled for him a moment ago and hand it over.

Jonathan shoots it a skeptical look, dropping the towel to drape over his shoulders.

“It’s Captain,” Steve explains, giving it a tiny shake. “And Coke.I promise it’s not the same thing I made you drink last time, I know it probably traumatized you.”

“It did,” Jonathan confirms, and he still looks hesitant but he takes the cup from Steve’s hand and plops down on the bed across from him. “This is all so fancy, Steve.You really didn’t have to do this.”

“Yeah,” he chuckles, taking a sip of his own drink and watching as Jonathan slowly does the same. “You’ve mentioned that a couple of times.”

“I _know_ ,” Jonathan whines with a sheepish smile, brushing his hair away from his eyes.It makes it go every which way, and Steve doesn’t bother to tell him, because it’s suited to him. “I just feel so overwhelmed right now.I feel like I’m on a honeymoon or something.”

“I promise you I won’t give you Captain Morgan in a red solo cup on our honeymoon,” Steve says, earning a laugh and a shove from Jonathan.He’s decided that he likes when Jonathan pushes him; it means that he either said something pretty funny, or something that made him pretty flustered, and both are satisfactory in his book.

His feelings for Jonathan are admittedly starting to get a bit convoluted.At first he had thought that he’d just never had a friend that he _genuinely_  liked before, one that he could truly get along with and connect with and just feel like a pure version of himself next to.But he keeps finding himself looking at Jonathan and thinking that he’s cute, or staring at his smile or wanting to touch him.He logically knows in his mind that those things should be pretty self-explanatory, but it’s just weird to think that he’s viewing another guy in that light.He’s definitely never experienced that before, and it’s not that he loathes the idea, it just seems like _a lot_.A lot to take in and a lot to complicate things with.Everything is just so _good_  right now, and feelings being involved feels like a wrench in the gear.Not that Steve is bad at these sorts of things, he’s very much the opposite but...this is brand new territory for him, in a lot of ways.

He’s not really sure when it started, or when he pinpointed the feeling.It was just there one day and he knew it, and he’s not sure if it’s just fleeting or if it’s lust or loneliness or even him stupidly pining after Jonathan because he knows that he’s gay and he’s just curious.He hasn’t had enough time to explore it to decide.But it’s there, that’s for sure.Whatever it is.

He looks up at Jonathan, who’s turned to intently watch what’s transpiring on MTV, the poppy music video before him being the most interesting thing for him to look at right now.Steve sets his drink down, jumping from where he sits to run and turn the TV up.He grins at Jonathan, pointing at his drink.“We are partying.Tonight’s a night for partying.”

“We can’t party to this kind of music,” Jonathan retorts, eyeing Steve as he takes a drink. 

He rolls his eyes, still crouched in front of the television set, but he can’t hide the amusement from his face, because Jonathan is just so _ridiculous_  sometimes.“You’re allowed to like things that other people like, you know.I promise I won’t tell anyone.”

He crosses the room to join Jonathan on the bed again, reaching for the bottle on the nightstand.

“Other people liking it isn’t the problem,” Jonathan chuckles, holding his cup out for Steve to top it off. “I just have more refined taste than all of you.”

“Oh, okay,” Steve says, laughing as he moves to add to his own cup as well. “I guess you’re the only one with the divine knowledge that Bruce Springsteen isn’t awesome.”

“Bruce Springsteen is okay.Better than Prince,” Jonathan says over the rim of his drink, glancing at the TV screen as the song switches. “I don’t hate this one.”

“ _Journey_?” Steve asks incredulously, eyeing Jonathan as he shrugs and nods. “You like Journey and not Prince?They’re like, the same thing.”

“How are you saying something so wrong out loud?Was it a mistake?”

Steve laughs, watching as Jonathan just shakes his head, like he’s trying to ignore his comment.He can feel a buzz creeping on, and it makes everything funnier and more interesting, as if Jonathan isn’t enough of both of those things as it is.It also makes Jonathan look a little more beautiful, his drying hair hanging in his eyes as he absently watches the screen and nurses his drink.

“Okay, what about...Bon Jovi?” Steve asks, trying to get a better grasp on what it is that Jonathan likes.It really doesn’t make complete sense to him.Every time he thinks he has it figured out he throws him another curveball.

Jonathan doesn’t miss a beat with his answer. “Not bad, just nothing special.”

“Okay...” Steve says slowly, considering his next move. “Michael Jackson.”

“You’re asking me that?”

“Point taken.Okay, what about The Rolling Stones?”

“Obviously I like The Rolling Stones.”

Steve lets out a puff of breath, staring into his cup as he thinks.“John Mellencamp?” he says excitedly, his head shooting up so he can look at him.

Jonathan laughs a little, the sound a little closer to a giggle than usual, which Steve supposes is a product of the alcohol.“He’s not terrible.”

Steve smiles proudly, glad that he got at least one risky one right, and Jonathan finishes off his drink, which happened impressively fast as far as Steve is concerned.He sets to pouring him another, which doesn’t earn any argument.“You’ll have to give me the rundown sometime,” he says. “Show me all the superior music I’m missing out on.”

He’s pretty sure he can see Jonathan’s eyes light up at this offer, but he replies with a casual, “Oh, I will.”

They sit and talk back and forth for a bit, both working at their drinks, and as Steve gets increasingly more intoxicated he finds himself less able to gauge just where Jonathan is at.He’s learned already that he doesn’t have the most restraint in the world and he really doesn’t want tonight to end with Jonathan’s head in the toilet again.It would sort of put a damper on things for everyone.But he seems okay, just giggly and talkative and overall happy.Maybe he does better on dark rum than light rum, or maybe he’s just in a better state to take it right now.

Steve’s eyes light up as the music transitions into a slower song, and he grins up at Jonathan, who immediately reads the excitement on his face.

“What?” he laughs, studying Steve’s expression.

“Have you ever slow danced before?”

He watches as Jonathan shakes his head, taking another generous swig of his drink. “Oh, no,” he says, smacking his lips. “That’s not happening.”

“Yes,” Steve urges, setting his drink on the bedside table. “Yes it is.Come on, get up.”

“To _this_?” Jonathan asks pleadingly, watching as Steve stands up next to the bed, stumbling slightly.

“What, Can’t Fight This Feeling?” Steve laughs. “Yes!  It’s a good song!”

Steve can tell from Jonathan’s eyes that he disagrees, but he still sets his own drink down and starts to stand, pulling himself up from his cross-legged position. “I really don’t dance, Steve,” he says halfheartedly, and maybe Steve’s imagining it, but his refusal seems almost robotic, like it’s something he doesn’t really want to do, only feels like he ought to.

“You do now,” Steve says, placing his hands gently on Jonathan’s waist.His body is warm and soft beneath his palms, and the room is spinning now that he’s standing up but he’s determined to do this, because...well, because he wants to.No other reason than that, really.

“Put your hands on my shoulders,” Steve instructs, and Jonathan is giggling uncontrollably, like he can’t believe this is happening.

“Am I the girl?” he asks, tentatively doing as he’s told, his fingers, which are small compared to Steve’s and compared to anyone’s most likely, curling on either side just next to his neck.

“You wanna do it the other way around?” Steve laughs, and Jonathan shakes his head, avoiding his eyes as he tries to catch his breath.

“Then shut up,” Steve orders, earning another fit of laughter from Jonathan.He loves that sound, he really does.He hears it so much lately, and even more when he’s not sober, and it’s soft and breathy in his ear as he drags him closer.Jonathan stumbles over Steve’s feet a little bit, which just makes him laugh harder, and Steve’s hands tighten around his waist, squeezing gently and reassuringly.

“First rule is don’t stand on me,” he says authoritatively.

“I’m drunk!” Jonathan argues, his laughter refusing to cease.

“Just follow my feet,” Steve says, amusement cutting through into his own voice, and after a moment they get a bit of a rhythm, Jonathan stiffly mimicking Steve’s movements.

Steve tunes into the music as they go quiet, swaying back and forth gently.He realizes all at once that his heart is hammering, the way that it usually doesn’t when he’s in a position like this.He’s generally so collected, so experienced, and yet Jonathan’s smile and the atmosphere of the moment is making him feel shaky on his feet.There’s a feeling blooming in his chest, one that he recognizes, and one that he isn’t naïve enough to feel shocked by.He knew it was there, knew it was coming, and knew it was why he was doing this in the first place.

He slowly feels Jonathan start to loosen up, get a little less nervous and rigid and become comfortable with their movements.  It’s really not hard, just simple steps back and forth, but it’s, dare he say,  _cute_ that Jonathan is so clueless about it.  It feels good that he knows he’s the first to ever do this with him.

Jonathan’s head comes to rest on Steve’s shoulder, his height just perfect for it to be natural, and his hair is tickling his neck, his cheek warm against his chest.Steve turns to press his nose into his hair, and for a moment everything feels like heaven, blissful and warm and surrounded with the soft music.He can smell the undertones of shampoo in Jonathan’s hair and on top of that something that’s distinctly _him_ , that he recognizes from being close to him so many times, and he breathes it in, attaching it to the moment and hoping he’ll associate it with this feeling always.

But it’s fleeting, because one moment they’re on their feet, and the next they’re stumbling onto the bed, Jonathan erupting in laughter again.

Steve is stunned for a moment, and frankly a little bit squished, because Jonathan is on top of him and he’s stuck there and cackling, but all at once Steve joins in, losing his shit along with him.

“I told you,” Jonathan chokes out, his words breathy and strained, “I told you I don’t dance.”

“No shit,” Steve manages, his hands still fixed softly on Jonathan’s back, and he’s dismayed as Jonathan rolls over, not just because he crushes his arm in the process, but because he feels way too far away from him.

They lie there for a moment, trying to recuperate, and Steve listens as the music goes back to upbeat and bright, the opportunity that he’d only gotten to seize for a moment abandoned.

“Have you ever been in love?” Steve asks suddenly, prompting a confused glance from Jonathan.He chooses not to meet his eyes in favor of staring at the ceiling, because he’s not really sure why he’d asked that at all.His mind is running too fast for him to pinpoint the source.

Jonathan lolls his head to fix his gaze above them as well, going quiet for a moment as he thinks.Despite the subject matter the silence is comfortable, and Steve just waits for an answer, giving Jonathan all the time he needs.He usually gets a little tongue-tied upon being asked anything more complex than, ‘Do you want fries with that?’, and Steve is accustomed to it.Endeared by it, even.

“I don’t know,” he says finally, turning back to look at Steve, and this time, they make eye contact, because it feels like that’s the way it should be. “I really don’t know, Steve.”

He doesn’t inquire as to who he may’ve been in love with.He doesn’t know why; it just doesn’t feel like something he wants the answer to.Maybe it’s because the idea of Jonathan having feelings for someone else suddenly makes him feel jealous and violated, even though he has no reason to react that way.Well, he does.But he doesn’t.Doesn’t really have the right.

“I don’t think I was in love with Nancy,” Steve mutters, his eyes falling closed so the ceiling isn’t spinning anymore. “I thought I was, but...something was missing.”

Jonathan makes a noise of agreement, shifting as Steve desperately tries to tug his arm from underneath him so that he can release it.

“Do you think you just...know...when you fall in love?” Jonathan asks, his voice languid and soft and slow. “Like it just feels like love and you know it...or whatever?”

“I think so,” Steve replies, settling his hand, which is tingly from being trapped under Jonathan’s body, atop his own stomach. “I don’t know.”

“I’m so drunk,” Jonathan murmurs, earning a breathy laugh from Steve, who turns over on his side to look at him.

“Listen,” he says, patting Jonathan’s arm so that his eyes, which had also fallen closed for a bit, will meet his own. “When I fall in love, I’ll tell you what it feels like.”

Jonathan laughs a little bit, turning and closing his eyes again. “You can like...take notes and stuff and give ‘em to me.”

Steve laughs, letting himself fall so that he’s on his back again, and okay, he’s pretty drunk too.But he’s happy, undeniably happy, and as long as no one decides to throw up he knows they’ll finish the night out happy.He trains his ear onto the music from the TV, and allows himself to leave reality for a moment, just enjoy the mixture of feelings that have settled inside of him.He thinks he feels Jonathan inch a little closer, but he’s not sure, and he doesn’t think too hard about it.


	8. The Shift

“Hey, guess what!”

Jonathan groans, pulling the plush hotel blankets over his head.The sunlight hurts and Steve’s voice, which is always loud but particularly loud right now, hurts even worse.

He feels a force press down on the bed which, unless there’s someone else in their room, is presumably Steve’s entire body, and it slowly inches closer to him, the depression in the mattress migrating nearer and nearer.

“ _What_ , Steve,” he murmurs, voice muffled by fabric.

“You know what you need— take the blankets off.”

“No,” Jonathan says decidedly.His voice is scratchy with sleep and cracks a little bit, so he doesn’t sound as stern as he intends to.

“Take the blankets off,” he says again, and Jonathan fights for them as they’re tugged gently.

“Steve— _Stop_.”

“Take them off and I’ll tell you what you need.”

“I didn’t even ask what I need!”

Steve is apparently done dawdling around because he does the job for him, ripping all the blankets off at once, and Jonathan practically hisses like a vampire.

“You need pancakes!”

Jonathan shoves his fingers over his eyes and rubs them slowly, making a noise of disapproval.He opens them cautiously, and regrets it immediately, because it’s bright and Steve is looming over him, grinning from ear to ear.

“Steve,” he mutters, “ _Stop_.”

“Okay fine,” Steve says quickly, wiping the smile off his face and sitting back. “But seriously, pancakes.Great hangover food.Trust me.”

“So bring me some,” Jonathan says with a sigh, sitting up slowly and propping himself up on his hands as Steve finally removes himself from the bed. “If it’s really that important to you.”

“Yeeeeah, see, that’s the thing,” Steve says.He’s across the room now, fidgeting with his hair in the mirror. “We slept through breakfast.”

Jonathan makes a noise that’s something rivaling a whimper, throwing the blankets off his lower half and swinging his legs over the bed.The sudden movement makes his head pound and he takes a deep breath, looking over at Steve.

“Why are you like, fine, right now?”

“I’m not,” Steve replies, turning away from the mirror to watch as Jonathan slowly pulls himself to his feet. “I’m just faking it till I make it.”

Jonathan nods in understanding, reaching for his suitcase, and Steve makes an ‘aht, aht’ noise like he’s a toddler misbehaving.

“Just wear your pajamas,” he says, and Jonathan laughs softly, looking up at him.

“If it’s a pajama sort of occasion then why are you...”He waves his hand up and down at Steve’s full attire, from his perfect hair to his coordinated outfit, to his expensive shoes.

“Okay, fine,” Steve surrenders. “I just really want pancakes so please hurry.”

Jonathan snorts, nodding as he digs through his clothes.

 

Steve was weirdly right about the pancakes.It’s like the moment Jonathan took a bite, he felt a little bit better, and with each forkful of pancakes, which he usually finds to be insufferably dense and way too sweet to eat more than a few bites of, he feels more like himself.

“What did I tell ya?” Steve gloats, pointing his fork at Jonathan as he shovels his food in. 

Jonathan smiles slightly, sopping up some syrup on the side of his plate.“Yeah, it’s kinda magical.”

“Right?” Steve says excitedly with a raise of his eyebrows.

Jonathan was definitely drunk last night, but he hasn’t forgotten any of it.It’s all still fresh in his mind no matter how hard he tries to push it away.The way it had felt to have Steve’s hands on his waist, how intimate it had all been and how out of place it was in a relationship that’s supposedly purely platonic.Any progress he had made towards dismissing his crush on Steve was completely torn down last night, and now it’s all flooded back into him with shocking intensity.He can still remember the smell of his cologne and the sound of his laugh in his ear, and the few moments he had spent on top of him when they fell down on the bed and everything, all of it.

So he’s not sure if he’s just imagining it, but he swears that something has snapped between them, like their dynamic is just different.Like there’s something buzzing in the space between the two of them and they’re both just ignoring it.He’s not sure if it’s the way Steve has been looking at him this morning or if it’s just all in his head but something is different somewhere, it’s undeniable.

He scoops another bite of pancakes into his mouth and decides the best course of action is to ignore it.

“So, we have the whole day left,” Steve says, pouring more syrup over his plate as if he needs it after how much he’d used initially. “What do you wanna do?”

Jonathan shrugs, reaching to shove his hair out of his face and instead just knocking his hand into Steve’s sunglasses perched on top of his head.He’d given them to him when they’d stepped out of the hotel and Jonathan had practically collapsed, and the kindness of the gesture hadn’t gone unnoticed.  Steve is so...well, almost maternal.  He supposes it’s appropriate when he’s so used to spending time with children, and though Jonathan would usually expect to find it patronizing, it’s actually comforting.  He feels like Steve is always going to be there to fix even the smallest things, even though he never really needed someone to do that for him.

Instead he adjusts them to ensure his hair stays swept back, meeting Steve’s eyes.  “Whatever is fine with me.”

“Well,” Steve takes a sip of his coffee. “We could go to that art museum I was telling you about.”

“Okay,” Jonathan grins, unable to hide his excitement.He would be excited to do just about anything right now, because now that some food is in his system he’s feeling pretty awesome, and the energy of the city is flooding back to him, but the art museum was one of the key reasons he loved the idea of coming here.Well, that and just Steve.

They finish their food and gather themselves up, embarking on the walk to their destination.It’s nice out again today, if not a little hotter, and Jonathan pulls the sunglasses back over his eyes as they step out, because the brightness still hurts a little bit in the back of his head.

“It’s not, like, the best place ever,” Steve says as they walk, veering between people who seem much more sure of what they’re doing. “It’s free admission, and I don’t really know what kind of exhibits they have right now, but, ya know.”

“I’m sure it’ll be cool,” Jonathan assures, turning to smile at him, and Steve laughs, earning a confused stare.

“You just,” Steve presses his lips together, trying to stifle his laughter. “Those sunglasses are way too big for your face.”

“Fuck off,” Jonathan chuckles, shoving his shoulder. “Maybe you just have a big head.”

“I do,” Steve nods, fishing his cigarettes out of his pocket.He lights both, as he always does, then hands one to Jonathan as they walk.

“I think you’re right,” Jonathan says as he takes a long drag. “About the city being right for me.”

Steve turns to shoot him a smile, nodding in agreement. “You like it here,” he says. “I can tell.”

“I’m glad you talked me into it,” Jonathan admits, and Steve reaches over to ruffle his hair, much to his dismay, but not so much to his surprise.

“I’ll talk you into lots of shit,” he assures gleefully. “We’re just getting started.”

“That sounds...ominous,” Jonathan says with a frown, and Steve smiles through a hit of his cigarette, slinging an arm comfortably around Jonathan as he blows the smoke out to his side.

“Oh, it is,” he assures, and all Jonathan can do is roll his eyes.  Because all jokes aside, he doesn’t mind Steve talking him into things.

 

“Okay, long socks or short socks?”

“Long socks.Who wears short socks?”

Steve shrugs, pulling the blankets up a bit higher to his chin.“Your turn.”

“Chips or cookies?”

“Depends on my mood.”

“Just...pick one, isn’t that the point?”

“Fine.I guess...cookies.”

“What is wrong with you?”

They had every intention to be asleep by now.They’d laid down hours ago and gotten all settled into their bed, but the TV is still playing softly in the background and the two of them are pretty bad at shutting up when they’re together, so it hasn’t worked out too well thus far.At first their conversation had actually had a bit of substance, though it wasn’t really important enough to make mention of, and now they’ve made their way to _this_ , which Steve only initiated because he really likes learning these tiny little details about Jonathan, and because he’s not quite ready to go to sleep yet.

He’s sort of been thinking about last night all day today.Not consistently, but it keeps coming to mind, like a little blip that crops up every thirty minutes or so.Nothing that means anything _actually_  happened, so he doesn’t know why it’s still on his mind, but it’s less the events that transpired and more the feelings he had experienced when they did, and he’s sort of thinking that he has things figured out.A little bit.

He knows that he wants Jonathan.That part he’s certain of.He keeps wanting to touch him, to pull him close and be near him, and keeps finding little excuses to do so at any chance he gets.He knows that he’s attracted to him, in whatever way that is, and that he keeps looking at him and finding himself lost in thought, staring at his lips when he talks and being all too engrossed in his laughter.It’s not really well-rounded yet, he doesn’t know exactly what it is, but he knows that it’s there and it’s real.

“Hey, Earth to Steve.” 

Jonathan snaps his fingers in front of Steve’s face, grabbing his attention that he didn’t even realize had drifted.

“It’s your turn.”

“Okay,” Steve mutters, meeting his eyes, and he stares into them for a moment.He can’t see them very well in the dark but he can remember what they look like, the exact color of them and the different ways they light up in reaction to certain things.“Okay, um...yellow or...Hey, listen.”

Jonathan tilts his head a bit against the pillow, his eyebrows raising as he waits for Steve to speak.He obviously has no idea what’s going on, because why would he?Steve’s eyes flick from his, to his lips and back up, and, _oh, fuck it_.He’s doing it.

He reaches up and grabs Jonathan’s face, and kisses him hard, not really giving him a chance to react.His heart is beating so fast and his breath is short but after making a little noise of surprise in his throat, Jonathan doesn’t hesitate at all.He practically melts into him, kissing back with all the same fervor.His lips are so soft, weirdly soft, because Steve doesn’t think he’s ever seen him use chapstick in his life, but he can’t even remember a girl he’s kissed who had lips this soft and it’s making his head spin.

Jonathan’s hands come up to curl into the fabric of Steve’s shirt, clinging tightly, and Steve breaks their lips apart for a second, all but panting against his mouth.This time, it’s Jonathan that closes the gap, his lips smashing back into Steve’s, and that’s all the go-ahead he needs.

His hand slides back to lace into Jonathan’s hair as their mouths work against one another’s, and he doesn’t know what’s happening, has no idea what he’s doing but he loves it and Jonathan’s breath is shaky and he’s really good at kissing and he doesn’t even wanna think about it right now.Everything is hot and heavy and Jonathan is so close to Steve that he can feel the rise and fall of his chest, and it’s like everything that he felt is just bubbling to the surface right here right now and he doesn’t want to stop, not at all.

He rolls them over without breaking the kiss, climbing on top of Jonathan and hovering above him, and he feels him nibble at his lip a little bit, causing him to make a low noise in his throat.It feels like he could just do this forever, just kiss him over and over, but when their lips break apart again he moves down to press a light kiss to his jaw instead.

Jonathan huffs out a breath, tilting his head a little bit, and Steve presses warm, wet kisses down his neck, earning a tiny throaty noise, and it’s sexy, Steve thinks unabashedly.It’s different from anything that he’s used to.His skin tastes salty and distinct on his tongue and he can feel the suggestion of stubble on his jaw and his throat bob as he swallows thickly.

Steve might not be good at feelings or expressing them or knowing what he wants in general, but he is good at making out.This is sort of one of his talents.So he moves back up to kiss Jonathan again, and he feels him reach up and wrap his fingers in his hair this time, his grip tight and deliberate, and it’s Steve’s turn to make a soft noise of approval, something that almost resembles a moan.

He can feel Jonathan’s hips lift up against his as Steve tilts his head to deepen the kiss, and just the feeling of knowing that’s happening makes him kind of dizzy, and he’s about to rut down against him with reckless abandon when Jonathan pulls back, whispering a soft, “Hey.”

“What?” Steve whispers back, blinking to try and regain his composure.

“Is that David Letterman?”

Steve tunes into the sound of the TV for a moment, and then, they both lose it, giggling softly because for some reason it feels like the silence right now is sacred.Jonathan’s hands are still in his hair and their eyes meet as they laugh, noses brushing together, and it all feels so weird and surreal like there’s no way this is actually happening.

“What the fuck are we doing?” Jonathan asks, still giggling, and Steve just shakes his head, pulling back just enough so he can do it without them smacking foreheads.

“I don’t know.I don’t... What, are you saying I didn’t completely seduce you?”

“ _Stop_ ,” Jonathan laughs, shoving his shoulder. “Get off of me.”

He gives him a more deliberate push, both of them still losing their shit, and Steve obliges, rolling off of Jonathan to lay next to him on the bed again.He feels like he should be hurt about it, like he’s being rejected, but it doesn’t really feel like a rejection, it just feels like a transition from whatever _that_  was back to their usual selves, and it doesn’t feel like Jonathan disliked it in any way.Logically it would be easier to just ask, but he doesn’t.Because it feels like they’re leaving off in just the right way, and he doesn’t want to tamper with it at all.

Jonathan snickers a little as their eyes meet again, settling back up under the blankets, and Steve just grins sheepishly, looking down at the sheets.

“Okay. Okay.Toast or bagels?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i thought about whether or not this chapter was right for a long time. i’ve actually had it finished since i posted chapter 7, but i was just like, ‘are they ready? is it time?’. my final conclusion though, now that i’ve solidified the direction that this fic is definitely going to go in, is that it’s time to cross this bridge. things are far from over, in fact we’re really just beginning. brace yourselves.


	9. The Backseat

They haven’t talked about it.Not at all.

To be fair it’s not as if Jonathan has brought it up.They woke up the next day, spent the remainder of it sightseeing, then made the trek home and everything was just...normal.They were still laughing and joking and being their usual selves and it would’ve been almost like it hadn’t happened at all if Jonathan had been able to stop thinking about it.

It just kept constantly pestering his mind.Did Steve regret it, and if so why had he done it at all?He was the one who made the first move after all, it was his decision, and it was unprecedented.And he had seemed so _into_  it, kissing him hard and moaning against his lips and...well, every time he thinks about that he gets way too antsy so he should let it alone.He just doesn’t understand what happened or why and doesn’t understand what it means.

He picked up a shift at work the day after returning from Chicago, and he just couldn’t focus for the entire duration from it.Not that there’s much to focus on when he’s just waiting tables, but his mind was just everywhere but where it ought to be.Or rather, just on Steve in particular. 

He leans against the wall in front of the diner, fishing a cigarette out of his pack and placing it between his lips.He’s picked up the habit, he’s finally accepting that.But he swears it’s not just the nicotine.It’s the positive associations he makes with smoking cigarettes, how the smell of Marlboro Lights reminds him of Steve.

He’s done with work a little bit early, because Wednesdays in the summer are always a little hit or miss, but he can’t leave because...well, because despite all his confusion and worry and overall clamminess, when Steve had offered to pick him up from work so they could go smoke he had eagerly accepted.

He furrows his eyebrows as the familiar car rolls up, stopping at the curb in front of him, and he walks over to lean on the car, poking his head in the open window.

“You’re early,” he says pointedly, cigarette smoke framing his face as it wafts up from between his fingers.

“So are you,” Steve says with a grin, and Jonathan shrugs, opening the car door to climb in next to him.

Steve’s hair is different today.He hasn’t styled it, and it’s framing his face naturally the way it was at graduation.When it’s like this, it’s much more obvious how _long_  it really is, and thick and shiny.It looks nice this way, it really does.

“Your hair,” he observes with a smile, placing his cigarette in his mouth as he buckles his seatbelt.

“Oh, yeah,” Steve says, reaching up to touch it as if he’d forgotten. “You like it this way, right?”

“Yeah,” Jonathan nods, speaking around his cigarette. “Is that why you did it like that?”

“No.”Steve puts the car in drive, pulling away from the curb. “I just remember that you did.”

Jonathan sort of doesn’t believe him.  Maybe because he’s wishfully thinking or maybe because something in Steve’s tone tells him that he’s lying, but he leaves the subject be, not pressing the issue any further.

He stares out the window as they drive, and Steve cranks the music up, a song that Jonathan recognizes and doesn’t particularly like, but it’s tolerable enough and he doesn’t complain.He needs to talk to Steve about this, he decides.It’s easier to bring things up when he’s high, his muddled mind just allowing him to say anything that comes up without really thinking about it, and he needs to seize the opportunity.Not because he’s really expecting a big confession of love and commitment of romance, because he isn’t — that would be too much like a movie.He just needs some explanation so he doesn’t have to think so hard about it all the time.If Steve says that it was just an impulsive, heat-of-the-moment sort of thing and he wants to drop it and pretend it didn’t happen, then he can handle that, he thinks.He just doesn’t want to have to keep worrying about it.

They park at their usual dead end, and Steve retrieves the blunt from his pocket, bringing his lighter up to burn the end.Jonathan watches him, the way his hair hangs over his face and his eyes are full of concentration.He looks so good.He always looks good, but Jonathan is hyper-aware of it now, just can’t stop staring at him.If Steve notices, he doesn’t indicate it, just takes a couple of hits off the blunt silently.

He passes it to Jonathan, and he does the same, the gears working hard in his brain.Okay, maybe things _are_  a little bit different between them now that he thinks about it.Silence for them is usually comfortable, but this one is dense and deafening.Like there’s words tipping on the edge of both of their mouths and neither of them are letting them fall.That phrase about there being an elephant in the room is particularly applicable right now.

Jonathan doesn’t dare break the quiet for a couple more passes though, until his eyelids feel heavier and his thoughts feel slower.He stares out the windshield, waiting for the high to fully wash over him, and then he turns to look at Steve, whose hair is tucked behind one ear and lips are parted as he blows smoke from between them.

“So...are we gonna talk about the other day?” he asks softly, his voice coming out even meeker than usual, and he clears his throat to try and remedy the dryness.

“I hope so,” Steve answers, turning to meet Jonathan’s eyes as he passes the blunt back over to him.He takes it, even though he would usually stop by now.He’s really a lightweight, but he figures if he passes out, he passes out.

“I just...I mean, what—“

“I don’t know.”Steve rubs his eyes, shaking his head a little bit while Jonathan takes another hit. “I don’t know.I just don’t wanna mess things up.”

“Me neither,” Jonathan says flatly.He understands exactly what he means, he’s been thinking about that more than he imagines Steve even has.

“I like you,” Steve says with certainty, turning and watching Jonathan again and taking the blunt between his fingers as it’s handed back to him.  It catches Jonathan a little off guard, honestly, because he really wasn’t expecting to hear that so blatantly stated. “I know _that_ , it’s just—“

“Yeah.”

“It’s a lot.”

Jonathan nods, shoving his hair out of his face. “Yeah,” he says again, and he’s avoiding Steve’s eyes because he thought he could handle this conversation but it’s making him all clammy.“I get it, you don’t have to figure it all out.We can just...ya know...”

“Take it in stride?” Steve asks, and Jonathan thinks he actually looks sort of nervous, which is an emotion he’s never seen on Steve before.

“Yeah,” Jonathan says, even though he’s not really sure what he means.He thinks that maybe he’s saying that he actually wants to pursue something with him, but Jonathan doesn’t want to overthink it and he wouldn’t doubt if his perception of this whole conversation is being warped by his own feelings.  It’s all confusing enough as it is.

They both go quiet for a moment, staring out the windshield, and if Jonathan thought the silence before was uncomfortable, he wasn’t even prepared for this one.The tension is undeniable and neither of them is saying a word even though Jonathan still has a million more questions.

Steve turns and looks at him, taking a deep breath, and Jonathan decides that if this is how it’s gonna be then he’d rather they just put it all behind them.All the comfort and warmth of their relationship feels as if it’s gone and Jonathan wonders if maybe he didn’t savor it enough while it lasted.

“Listen,” Steve says, rubbing his nose as he gathers his thoughts. “Can I uh...can I have another opportunity to seduce you?”

Jonathan laughs, and like that all of the tension just flows straight out the window, and everything is how it should be. 

“Okay,” Jonathan says through laughter, nodding.It doesn’t need to make sense, he decides.It really doesn’t matter right now.What about this situation makes sense anyways?He and Steve Harrington, attached at the hip, planning to spend the summer having the most cinematic experiences imaginable; if he could go back in time and tell Past Jonathan that he would be sitting here right now, his former self would laugh in his face.So what’s a little more complication on top of that?Maybe that’s just his heart talking and not his head.But who cares?

He turns to meet Steve’s eyes, and watches as he pushes his thick hair back, not so unlike the way Jonathan does.They stare at each other for a brief moment, and then Steve leans in, presses his hand possessively to the back of Jonathan’s head, and kisses him.

It’s softer than their first one, less rushed.Maybe it’s because they know that this time, they’re both doing this, they’re both ready for it.Steve moves his lips slowly against his, and _God_ , he is such a good kisser, which should’ve been expected from the beginning but it still makes Jonathan feel as weak as it did the first time.

Jonathan leans further over the center console so he and Steve can be closer, and reaches up to curl his hands in Steve’s shirt, as if he’s afraid if he doesn’t hold him there he’s going to pull away.But nothing would indicate that he’s going to, because he can feel Steve’s hands lace further into his hair and cling to it, their lips parting for a moment so they can both breathe, and then connecting again hungrily. 

He almost jumps when he feels Steve’s free hand move to rest on his knee, but then he melts into the touch, letting Steve grip his jeans as their kiss gets deeper and more deliberate.One of Jonathan’s hands reaches up to slot into Steve’s hair as well, and it’s so soft, even softer than what it looks.He just wants to run his fingers through it forever.

Steve breaks the kiss and moves down to nose at Jonathan’s neck, and he tips his head to the side to allow him access, lips parting as Steve presses hot, open-mouthed kisses from his jaw and along down.He’s suddenly aware how ragged his breath is, and how fast his heart is pumping, and how Steve’s splayed hand is slowly moving from his knee up to his thigh and he just wants him so much closer.

“Steve,” he whispers, voice strained, and Steve snaps back to look at him, as if he’s made a mistake.

Jonathan bites his lip, which is still tingling from the kisses, and meets Steve’s eyes, his heart pounding even more now than it was before.“Can we, um... Should we get in the back?”

A slow grin spreads across Steve’s face, and he squeezes Jonathan’s thigh gently.He looks like himself again right now, the smug look on his face and the sureness in his tone as he speaks so familiar. “Whatcha wanna do back there?”

“ _Steve_ ,” Jonathan laughs breathlessly, both his hands moving to Steve’s shoulders and giving him a light shove.

“Okay, okay,” he says quickly, leaning to press a quick kiss to Jonathan’s jaw.“Come on.”

 

Jonathan is beautiful.That is one thing Steve is undeniably sure of.

He’s pinned under him right now, Steve sitting on his thighs, and they’ve been making out for...how long now?It feels like it’s been forever and no time at all at the same time.But Jonathan’s breath is fast and heavy and his cheeks are slowly flushing the longer they spend in this position and Steve doesn’t want to stop.

He sits back and looks at him for a moment, at his lips which are red and soft and parted, and his eyes which are heavy-lidded, probably partially due to their current situation and partially due to still being pretty stoned.Beautiful is a good word, but really, so is _hot_.

Jonathan grabs him by the shirt and pulls him back down to crush their lips together again, and Steve moves up a bit to sit on his hips and _oh fuck_.It’s not that he had any reason not to expect it, but he can feel Jonathan’s cock through his jeans and it’s hard and pressing up against his own, and Steve is glad that when he makes a noise low in his throat at the contact, Jonathan matches it and then some with a soft moan.

It goes without saying that this is all new to Steve, and he thinks that maybe this is all new to Jonathan as well, but it’s not just the contact to the front of his own pants that makes the pit of his stomach burn with arousal, it’s the fact that it’s _Jonathan’s cock_  and he can feel it right now.

He presses against him experimentally, rutting his hips just a tiny bit for friction, and Jonathan breaks the kiss to breathe another little noise against his mouth.

“Yeah?” Steve asks, smirking a little bit.

“Yeah,” Jonathan whispers, moving his hips a tiny bit in a way that seems more involuntarily than deliberate.

Steve nods, and this time he grinds down against him for real, which earns an absolutely _vulgar_  moan from Jonathan.He watches as he lolls his head back, biting his lip, and _God_ , he is just so responsive.No girl that Steve’s ever been with has been this easy to please, this eager and this quick to turn to putty beneath him.He loves it, loves the little noises and breaths and the look in Jonathan’s eyes whenever he dares to open them.So he does it again.And again.

Jonathan tugs at Steve’s shirt as he sets a pace with his hips, and usually it would make him cringe to have it stretched out, but the way that Jonathan’s eyebrows are scrunched together and mouth is open as he arches his hips to meet Steve’s makes it the furthest thing from his mind. 

Steve moves to press their lips back together as he continues grinding down against Jonathan, drinking in every little tense and twitch of his body and the whines in the back of his throat.He shifts his hips a little, and when he moves against him again their cocks rub right together and _okay_ , that’s fucking good.

“ _Jesus_ , Jonathan,” Steve murmurs against his lips, making a tiny little circle with his hips and getting the most delicious sound in response. “You’re so loud.”

“Sorry,” Jonathan chokes out, voice scratchy and soft. “It just—“

“No, I’m saying it’s fucking hot,” Steve clarifies, and Jonathan smiles a little against his mouth.Steve pulls back a bit to look at him and he thinks it’s the first time he’s ever seen him look smug.Like he already knew what Steve was saying was true.

“Then don’t stop,” he says softly, and although it’s sultry, Steve can sense the undertones of desperation in his voice.It’s a suggestion, but also a plea.

Steve frantically reaches for the button of Jonathan’s jeans, undoing it with fumbling fingers. “Can I...?”

Jonathan nods, and bites his lip to try and curb the whimper in the back of his throat.

Steve reaches inside his jeans and tentatively rubs his cock through his boxers, palm tracing the curve of it, and Jonathan whines, his head falling back against the seat again.He’s so fucking hard, and as Steve’s fingers curl around the head through the fabric he can feel the wetness of precum, which for some reason is so fucking hot.It’s like when he feels that a girl is wet, except better, because Jonathan’s _already_  hard and now there’s this, too.He doesn’t even hardly feel like he’s done anything, and yet Jonathan is so turned on that he’s moaning at mere touches.

Steve rubs his hand down a little bit, feeling Jonathan’s cock twitch under it, and Steve’s pretty sure his own does the same thing, because this is all just so _good_.He wraps his hand around it, dipping back down to start kissing at Jonathan’s neck again, and if he thought he was a mess before, this is a whole new level.

He rubs his hand up and down, applying what he thinks is the right amount of pressure, and it must be because Jonathan is rolling his hips into his palm, making little noises in the back of his throat.He really has no idea what he’s doing.He knows what feels good when he gets himself off, or when someone else does it, but the bottom line is it’s uncharted territory.The kissing, the teasing, he has that down pat, but Jonathan is so receptive to everything he does that he really can’t differentiate what he really likes from what’s just okay.It sort of seems like there’s no such thing as ‘just okay’ for him.So he’s just gonna roll with it and do anything that makes him moan.

He makes his way down to the crook of Jonathan’s neck, biting gently, at which he gasps, and then he starts sucking, pulling the skin into his mouth and running his tongue along it.He doesn’t stop rubbing his cock, and the tightness of his own jeans isn’t forgotten but something about having Jonathan’s hard dick in his hand is more appealing right now than doing anything about his. 

He pulls off of Jonathan’s neck, leaving a light kiss over the blooming hickey he created, and decides that maybe if he wants to make this good, he should just ask him what he wants.  It’s that easy, right?

“Talk to me,” he murmurs against Jonathan’s skin, rubbing slowly at the head of his cock, which makes him squirm and whine. “Tell me what you like.”

“Now?” Jonathan chokes out, still moving his hips.

Steve chuckles breathlessly, trailing a few more kisses up his neck. “Preferably.”

“Uh, I don’t know,” Jonathan stammers, his voice breathy and strained.Steve feels him swallow, tilting his head a bit more. “Grind on me again.That felt good.”

Steve nods, and he pulls away from Jonathan fully so he can sit up and work at the button of his own jeans.He wants them off, wants to actually feel Jonathan’s dick against his own and the heat of it as they rub together.He gets his jeans down to his knees and then he has to stick one leg out at a time, shimmying them off awkwardly.Then he climbs over him again and braces one hand on the seat next to his head, meeting his eyes.  Jonathan’s pupils are wide and he’s staring at him expectantly, and suddenly he thinks he understands why Jonathan likes taking pictures so much, because he wants to capture the way he looks right now forever.

His other hand moves down to grip the soft part of Jonathan’s hip, and then he presses down against him again and it feels _electric_  before he even hardly moves.Jonathan gasps, and his hands dart up to Steve’s face, grabbing his cheeks so he can pull him down and smash their lips back together.Steve doesn’t even have to think about it, because the kiss is so rough and passionate that his hips move on their own, his cock rutting against Jonathan’s, and the heat and the fabric between them all makes it feel so good and he and Jonathan moan simultaneously, Steve’s low and throaty and Jonathan’s breathy and whimpery.They almost do something like harmonize.

Steve sets a pace again, rolling their hips together slowly and deliberately, and it’s sloppy and it’s inexperienced but it feels incredible and unparalleled to anything he’s ever felt before.Jonathan breaks away, brushing their lips together for a moment, and mutters something Steve doesn’t quite catch.It’s not so much about the volume, he just really wasn’t listening.

“Hm?” Steve hums, not pausing his movements at all.

“Can you...scootch...” he says between breaths, which doesn’t really make any sense, and fortunately he clarifies.“So I can...I wanna wrap my legs around you.”

And _oh_ , okay, that’s fucking hot.

Steve settles back so he’s between Jonathan’s legs, and he wastes no time in lifting them up and locking his thighs around Steve’s hips, pulling him flush against himself.His cheeks are red and his eyes are full of lust and Steve only stares into them for a moment before he starts moving again, so he can keep making him moan.

They don’t kiss this time, Steve just looks at him while he rubs their cocks together, finding a comfortable and fluid motion that feels good and watching as Jonathan’s eyes squeeze shut and his hands grapple for something to cling to, and end up settling for Steve’s shirt again.He makes a little _ah_  noise as Steve’s fingers dig into his hip, but it’s definitely not a complaint, so he leaves them that way, squeezing tight.

He wants to make Jonathan come, he realizes.If this is how he is when they’re just grinding on each other, the minimal amount of contact they can have, then when he’s coming he has to be _gorgeous_ , and loud and overall just so sexy.When he looks down he can see them rubbing against each other, and the wet spot at the tip of Jonathan’s erection and the way his thighs are squeezing tightly around him and it’s more erotic than anything he thinks he’s ever watched.

“Can you come like this?” he whispers, voice gravelly even though it’s barely audible.He’s sure that he himself can’t, it would just never work, but Jonathan seems to feel everything so much more intensely than him.

“I don’t know,” he answers, breath hitching with each little movement. “Just don’t stop.”

He’s definitely not going to.

The hand on Jonathan’s hip slides down to grip his thigh, and he squeezes it hard as he ruts against him, drinking in all the little whimpers and gasps.He can feel his stomach coiling and usually it would be frustrating to know that he’s going to be sitting on the edge of climax this entire time, but his own pleasure is only the cherry on top of seeing Jonathan unravel like this.He’s never even really been like that, has always been focused on what feels good for himself, but it’s hard not to focus on Jonathan when he’s making so much noise and looks so good.

Suddenly Jonathan nods, tugging so hard on Steve’s shirt that he has to lean down with it. “I can,” he chokes out, like he’s holding his breath. “I can, keep going.”

“Yeah?” Steve says breathlessly, and Jonathan just nods again, going eerily quiet save for his quick breaths every now and again.Steve knows it means that he’s close, and he wants to do more to get him there but he doesn’t know what would do it, so he just keeps things the way that they are, rolling his hips fluidly and what now feels like expertly.

Obviously it’s not necessary anyways, because all at once, Jonathan tenses, making a choked noise in his throat, and then he tosses his head back against the seat, tugging Steve up against him.

He physically watches Jonathan’s orgasm wash over him, and he chokes out a loud, “Oh, _fuck_ ,” which seems to break the dam to a million more noises, whiny moans and whimpers in the back of his throat, and Steve didn’t think he could look any prettier but he does right now.His back is arched and his hips are twitching and it’s weirdly hot that Steve can feel the warmth of his cum as it wets the front of his underwear.Everything about this is unbelievable and foreign but amazing.

Jonathan slowly stills to a stop, slumping back against the seat and taking a deep breath.He looks like he’s fucking glowing, and Steve has no idea how he looks like an angel when he’s all sweaty and has cum on the front of his boxers but he definitely does.

“Fuck,” he says again, but his tone is totally different this time, and he lets out a little breathless laugh as he tosses his arm over his eyes. 

Steve laughs a little as well, rubbing his hand down Jonathan’s thigh as he sits back a bit into a more comfortable position.“Yeah,” he says softly, and suddenly he feels a little awkward.He just _did_  that.He was doing that.

They’re quiet for a second, Jonathan stopping and catching his breath and Steve replaying the scene over in his mind; the faces Jonathan made and the noises that were coming out of his mouth, the way it had felt when their hips were moving together.It’s not helping how hard his dick is but he’s not sure he’s mad about that anyways.

Jonathan’s legs unwind from around him and he pulls himself into a half-sitting position, leaning back on his elbows.His eyes are still only really half-open, and he looks up at Steve from under his eyelashes, a sheepish smile on his face.

“I promise I’m not gonna leave you hanging,” he says, “but I really need a cigarette right now.”

Steve watches his lips from the moment he grabs his pack to when he’s taking the last hit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i’m posting this at 1am but happy valentine’s day and you’re welcome. how sad is it that my longest chapter thus far is smut


	10. The Meatloaf

“How’s Steve doing?”

Jonathan damn near pours his milk all over the counter instead of in his glass, and barely recovers it at the last minute.He turns to look at his mom, sitting at the table in her bath robe and holding a half-smoked cigarette.It makes Jonathan wish he’d had one before slipping out of his room this morning.

“Huh?” he asks, even though he heard her perfectly fine.

“Steve,” she repeats, reaching to the middle of the table to tap her cigarette over the ashtray. “You’re still hanging out with him, right?”

Jonathan turns back to his glass, finally starting to pour the milk where it belongs. “Oh, uh, he’s good, yeah.”

He’s well aware there’s no way his mom knows what happened yesterday.Despite the fact that his boxers were less than clean when he had gotten home, the house was empty when he arrived and he was able to take a shower and throw his clothes in the washing machine undetected.It might seem a little paranoid of him to do all that, by the sounds of it.It’s not like he committed a crime.But nothing gets past his mother if he doesn’t plan for the worst.

He sits down across from her at the table, setting his glass of milk down with a light clatter.She takes a drag off her cigarette, meeting his eyes.

“So, when are you gonna invite him over for dinner?”

Jonathan pushes his hair out of his face, grabbing his glass of milk. “It’s not like that.”

“I didn’t say it was,” she says matter-of-factly, and technically that’s true, but Jonathan knows his mother and he knows the reason she wants him to invite Steve over.With everything that’s going on in his head, he has no idea how to explain to her that she’s sort of, technically wrong.

Because she is.He and Steve haven’t started doing anything differently.After Steve literally made Jonathan come in his pants, Jonathan had jacked him off too and then they had just gone back to their normal dynamic, laughing and talking and just being friends.Neither of them had questioned this; neither of them had any ideas for next steps.So _is_  it like that?He’s not really sure.It certainly isn’t the way his mom thinks it is.Steve isn’t his boyfriend and they’re not going around holding hands and kissing under sunsets and whispering sweet nothings to one another.The way that it really is isn’t exactly mom-friendly.And it isn’t something he’s ready to talk about right now, to anyone. 

He sips his milk while Joyce silently smokes her cigarette, avoiding conversation and glad that his mom hasn’t offered any more either.But she’s still eyeballing him like she’s waiting for an answer, and he sighs, setting his glass down.

“I’ll invite him over, alright?”

Joyce smiles, pulling her robe tighter around herself.She’s trying to look calm, but her eyes are full of excitement.“Okay.”

 

This was a bad idea.

Jonathan’s first clue was the look Steve had given him when he walked in the door.Something like a knowing mischievousness, a glance that says something like, _oh, okay, so this is how it is?_.He didn’t have time to tell him that this really wasn’t his intention.

His second clue had been when Will asked, “What’s Steve doing here?”, and was extremely confused when Jonathan explained that he’s just here to meet their mother. 

His third clue, so far, is the entire dinner, because this is the most awkward thing he thinks he’s ever done.

He watches as Steve chews his meatloaf, busying himself with pushing his own food around on his plate.No one has ever looked pretty to him while eating meatloaf before.

He looks _so good_ , though.He has his hair down and hanging in his eyes again, and it’s curling over his neck and around his ears.Jonathan is sure now that he’s keeping it like that because he likes it, and it almost makes his heart beat fast to think about that.His eyes are bright and every time he smiles Jonathan can’t help but stare at him and he’s not sure when something that simple became so appealing to him but it definitely is now, and he can barely force himself to look away.

He definitely has feelings for Steve.  He knows that at this point.  Before it had been kind of ambiguous in his mind.  He wasn’t sure what to make of the way that he felt or the way it made his stomach lurch when Steve touched him or the way his chest swelled with pride when he made Steve laugh (which isn’t even a hard thing to do, mind you).  But lately he’s positive, and that just makes their already complicated situation that much more convoluted.

“So Steve, are you going to college?” Joyce asks, smiling innocently as if she doesn’t know exactly what she’s doing right now.She has to know that something’s up.There’s no way she doesn’t.  They wouldn’t be in this position right now if she didn’t have something cooking in her brain.

Steve nods, taking a sip of his drink. “Yes ma’am, I’m going to Purdue in the fall.”

“I told you to call me Joyce,” she says, and Steve nods quickly, taking another bite. 

“Sorry.Yes...Joyce.”

Jonathan snickers a little bit, and he thinks he might’ve seen Steve shoot daggers at him but it happens too quickly for him to be sure.

“Well, that’s good,” she says, reverting to the topic. “Purdue’s a good school.Has Jonathan told you that he wants to go to-“

“NYU, yeah,” Steve interrupts, earning a smile from Jonathan’s mother.

“You guys seem close,” she observes with a glance, and Jonathan fights the urge to glare at her while she takes a bite of her peas.

“Uh, yeah, well...” Steve smiles through his mouthful of food, and Jonathan has to give him props for being so calm right now when the implications of this whole situation are glaringly obvious.“Fighting inter-dimensional monsters together really brings people together I guess.”

Joyce hums in agreement, but Jonathan can tell she doesn’t really accept it as an explanation.

“So is Steve your best friend now?” Will asks casually, pushing his own peas around on his plate.

Jonathan exchanges a glance with Steve, because he’s not really sure how to answer that.He supposes that he is, though they’ve never really referred to one another in such a manner.They just are what they are, they haven’t really labeled it.Steve shrugs, and then nods, looking over at Will.“Yeah, I guess I am.”

“Weird,” he says, and Jonathan doesn’t actually see it but he’s pretty sure from the way his brother flinches that Joyce gave him a kick underneath the table.

They all go silent for a bit, chewing their food, and the kitchen is so tense that Jonathan is plotting whether or not it would be appropriate to excuse himself and climb out the bathroom window.He remembers when he first had Nancy over for dinner, the way his mom was looking between the two of them with this little smirk on her face, and it feels exactly like that, her gaze shifting back and forth to either of them while Jonathan and, most likely Steve, pretends not to notice.It almost makes it worse that in a way she’s not wrong.If they were just friends and this was happening, they’d be able to laugh it all off and make a joke of it because he and Steve just have that type of relationship.But because of what happened the other day, this feels weird, and invasive, and far too soon.Perhaps shouldn’t be happening at all, because he doesn’t exactly expect things with Steve to go anywhere.He likes Steve, of course, really likes Steve, and he can’t stop thinking about how it felt to kiss him and breathe against his mouth and the noises he had made while they rubbed against one another.Actually, that’s not something he should be thinking about at dinner.

The point is, they’re just...they’re not together like that.

Jonathan pushes his remaining meatloaf over on his plate, staring at it for a moment before looking up at Steve.“Are you done?”

He wants to talk to Steve and tell him that he doesn’t mean anything by this, that it wasn’t really his decision and he doesn’t wanna push him into anything too real.Steve doesn’t seem to feel awkward, really doesn’t seem to mind this at all, but Steve is also good at talking to people and good at functioning in uncomfortable situations and Jonathan just can’t stand the idea of pushing him away with this.

Steve nods, taking one last sip of his drink before pushing himself up from the table.“Yeah.Thank you, Joyce.”

She smiles, still chewing her food while she looks up at the two of them, and Jonathan doesn’t like the look on her face one bit but like every little expression she’s made as she looks at them tonight, he makes his best effort to ignore it.

As soon as Jonathan’s bedroom door is shut behind them, Steve pushes him up against it.Jonathan only holds back his surprised squeak in favor of frantically shushing him, because his mom already has ideas about what’s going on between them and banging around in here is not going to help their case.

“What are you doing?” he whispers, face so close to Steve’s that he can feel his breath tickling his lips.

“Do you know how hard it was to sit through dinner when you looked that good?”

Jonathan lets out a puff of breath, grinning a little as he breaks their eye contact.He can feel his cheeks heating up a little bit and he wishes he wasn’t so pale so that it wouldn’t be completely obvious.

“You serious?” Jonathan says, ducking his head slightly. “You’re the one who looks good.You have your hair like that again.”

Steve laughs a little bit, leaning down to press a kiss just below Jonathan’s jaw, which makes him tip his head slightly.

“You’re so easy to please.”

Jonathan knows that his words have a double meaning, and his breath hitches a little as Steve kisses his neck again, a little bit lower this time.

He feels Steve’s hands move down to grip his waist, holding him on either side as he kisses down his neck, his lips warm and slightly moist and electric against his skin.Jonathan’s head is spinning and nothing is even happening yet.

“Is that why you agreed to dinner?” Jonathan asks with a breathy chuckle, reaching up to hold onto Steve’s shirt, just so he can keep him close. “You wanted another sad handjob?”

Steve laughs against his neck and he can feel his teeth graze his skin.It makes him shiver. 

“That was the best handjob I’ve ever gotten in my life.”

“You’re so full of shit.”

Steve chuckles softly, shaking his head.

“No,” he says, kissing down to the crook of Jonathan’s neck, “I actually just wanted to hear you moan some more.”

Jonathan can’t express how much he wants to hear Steve moan some more, too, how much he wants what they had in the car over and over and more than that on top of it.

He tightens his hands on Steve’s shirt.“I can’t moan here,” he whispers, licking his lips.As much as he would love to, as much as he wants Steve to make him whine and whimper and make all the noises of pleasure imaginable, his mom is literally rooms away and he’s not about to give her more of a reason to look at him the way she has been.

Steve pulls back to brush his lips against Jonathan’s, and he chases his mouth but Steve moves away before he manages to kiss him. “Do it in my ear then,” he says softly, and then he gives Jonathan what he wants, pressing their lips together.

Kissing Steve again feels like sucking in a breath after holding it for ages, like it’s something he’s been waiting to do forever.He didn’t even realize he needed it, but it energizes him, like a wave of relief crashes over him, and he moves to wrap his arms around Steve’s neck as their lips move together.He’s glad that Steve shared the same sentiment he has for the past several days; that all he could think about was wanting to do this again.Jonathan’s spent every night with his cock in his hand whispering Steve’s name as he thought about the feeling of Steve’s hands in his hair and lips on his neck.And now he gets to have the real thing again.

One of Steve’s hands stays pressed against the door while the other reaches up to run through Jonathan’s hair, pushing it back from his face while they kiss fervently.Jonathan should be ashamed that he’s already hard, but right now he doesn’t even care, because everything Steve does is so hot that there’s no way he wouldn’t be.

“I just haven’t been able to stop thinking about you,” Steve murmurs as he breaks the kiss, echoing Jonathan’s thoughts.He moves back down to Jonathan’s neck, mouthing against it. “You looked so good underneath me.I wish you knew how hot you are.”

Jonathan has to hold back a moan just at the words.The fact that Steve sees him in that way, that he finds him just as attractive as he finds Steve, makes something stir inside of him that’s more than just lust.He knows what it is.He ignores it.Instead he chuckles breathlessly, hand moving up to lace into Steve’s hair while he presses kisses up and down his neck.“You don’t have to seduce me again, you know.I’m right here.”

He can feel Steve’s lips move as he smiles against his neck.“I know...but it makes you harder, right?”

“Already hard.”

Steve laughs softly, sucking at Jonathan’s skin for a moment, and he doesn’t even have the heart to tell him that he shouldn’t give him a hickey right now.“What I’m saying is, it’s hot.Tell me what you’ve been thinking about.”

What has Jonathan been thinking about?Steve on top of him, Steve’s face when he made him come, how beautiful his hair looks when it’s falling in his face and the noises he was making into his mouth.It’s not quite that linear, though.Because every thought of Steve on top of him in the backseat was followed by a question of what they are, what this is, where it’s going.It’s a constant battle between horniness and confusion.But only one of those is appropriate right now, so he just says what he knows Steve wants to hear.

“You, between my legs...”His breath hitches as Steve nibbles at his jaw. “Your face...uh...How much I wanna suck your dick.”

Not a lie, but he didn’t really mean to say it.Still, Steve pulls back to look at him, grinning devilishly. 

“Oh yeah?” he asks, and Jonathan gasps as Steve presses his body against his. “You gonna do something about that?”

Jonathan’s lips spread in a small smile, and he reaches up to shove Steve’s shoulders lightly, snickering. “Okay just... _stop_.”He wonders how many times he’s said that to Steve.He doesn’t think he could count. “Just be _normal_ , God.”

Steve laughs, not bothering to keep his voice low this time, and pulls back so he’s no longer flush against Jonathan, which isn’t exactly welcome but Jonathan doesn’t protest. “ _What_?How am I not being normal?”

“You’re just...” Jonathan stammers, waving his hands around.“It’s...this doesn’t feel like us.You sound way too much like a porno.Just...let me suck your dick while you make jokes about politics or something.”

“That doesn’t sound very sexy,” Steve says, still grinning from ear-to-ear.

“Who cares?”

Steve shrugs, his hand finding its way up Jonathan’s side. “Fine.As long as I’m getting a blowjob.”

Jonathan laughs softly, reaching back up to cling onto Steve. “There you go.That’s better.”

They both lean in again and it’s not really clear who initiates the kiss, but their lips connect and it just feels right, both of their heads tilted at just the right angle and their mouths following one another’s cues, working together what seems like expertly.  It’s like they’ve already perfected this.  Steve knows exactly when to run his tongue along Jonathan’s lips to make him sigh and knows when to use just the tiniest bit of teeth.  Jonathan knows when to submit to him, and when to urge him forward with harsher kisses.

What Jonathan _doesn’t_  know is how to proceed.  He’s never had a cock in his mouth before, obviously, and he has no idea where to start or how to make an enjoyable experience out of it but he knows that he feels a lot more confident when Steve is just being _Steve_.Not some weird, unfamiliar sex god that’s dirty talking in his ear.Just Steve.That’s all he wants.

He reaches down as they kiss to graze his fingers over the front of Steve’s jeans, tracing the outline of his cock and smiling against his mouth as he gasps softly.  He could honestly sit here and just touch Steve’s dick forever, because it makes him feel kind of powerful to be able to just _touch_  and make Steve sound like that.  But he knows that if he feels good about himself _now_ , then he’s gonna love sucking Steve off.

So he swallows his nervousness and reaches for the button of Steve’s jeans, popping it open.

He unzips them, pulling them down a little, and Steve makes a low noise in his throat when Jonathan grips his cock through his boxers, rubbing him beneath his palm.

“Shhh,” Jonathan urges, laughter cutting through the command as he breaks away from the kiss.  He rubs him languidly, mapping out the feeling of him beneath his fingers. “These doors are thinner than you think.”

Steve snickers, but he seems to cooperate because as Jonathan continues kneading the front of his pants, he resigns to making softer sounds, breathing hard and making tiny grunts in the back of his throat.  They’re still sexy, and as long as Jonathan is this close to him, he can hear them just as well.

He licks his lips, giving Steve one last glance, then he slowly sinks down against the door until his knees are touching the floor.  Except Steve is way too fucking tall, and he’s only eye-level with his thighs, so he settles himself up onto his toes instead, perching his weight on his thighs.  He stares at Steve’s clothed cock before him, the outline of it in his underwear, and he traces the head softly with one finger, not sure if he’s teasing or just taking it all in.  He supposes it’s a little bit of both.

”Take your time,” Steve says, sarcasm dripping from his tone, and Jonathan laughs, glancing up at him.

”Oh I will.”

He’s lying though.  Because at Steve’s urging he leans forward and presses a soft kiss to the head of his cock, lips slightly parted so he can graze his tongue against the cotton.  It earns a beautiful sigh, and it makes him want to do more and more and more.

“Do I actually have to make jokes about politics?” Steve asks, voice already strained even though Jonathan has done next to nothing.

“I would actually really prefer if you didn’t.”

“Okay, good.”

Jonathan presses another kiss to Steve’s cock, this time to the head, and Steve sucks a sharp breath in at the contact.  He’s anxious, but it feels like maybe this is easy, like all he has to do is have his mouth on Steve in some way and he’s going to like it.  He just feels like he must have such big shoes to fill.  Steve has been with so many girls, probably gotten so many blowjobs in his life, and Jonathan’s afraid that his own inexperienced ministrations will pale in comparison, to say the least.  But so far, Steve seems content.  And he can’t just sit here and stare at his crotch all night so it’d probably be best to do something.

He works up the courage to reach under Steve’s waistband and pull his cock out of his underwear, ducking his head back so he doesn’t get hit in the face, and _holy shit_  was his dick this big before?It’s way bigger when he’s staring right at it.  This suddenly feels all the more intimidating, the building of his confidence coming to a screeching halt, and he pauses, just staring.

He feels Steve’s hand brush back through his hair, fingers ghosting along his scalp, and it’s immediately comforting, such a soft touch in contrast to their position right now.  It feels like Steve has this unique ability to channel his intentions through to his fingers, and express them through his touch.  His soothing reaches Jonathan without him even having to say a word, and Jonathan leans into his touch for just a moment, before he gently grabs hold of the base of Steve’s cock, brushing his lips over the head.

He lifts his gaze up to Steve, and surveys the way his hair is dangling over his face in soft waves, the way his lips are parted as he stares down at Jonathan.  He thinks he understands why some people love sucking dick so much now.

He lets his eyes fall closed and dips Steve’s cock into his mouth, testing the waters.  He tastes the salt of his skin and the bitterness of precum and it’s such an erotic flavor, clearly like nothing he’s ever experienced.  Way better than pussy.  The way Steve’s breath catches encourages him to go a little further, taking a bit more of him hesitantly between his lips, and he just lets Steve glide into his mouth, rubbing his tongue along the underside.

The noise Steve makes when he moves his tongue tells him he ought to do it more, so he does, slipping it everywhere that he thinks would feel good, and either Steve is really good at faking it or he’s doing a pretty decent job.

He sinks his mouth further down, giving a light suck, and Steve braces his free hand against the door, hanging his head and letting out a broken, breathy sound.

“Fuck,” he whispers, and Jonathan pulls off, staring back up at him.

“Good?” he asks, wanting confirmation.  As if Steve’s noises haven’t been confirmation enough.  Maybe he’s just needy.

“Better if you don’t stop,” Steve says breathlessly, a smile dancing on the corners of his lips, and Jonathan smiles back slightly before moving back in to pick up where he left off.

He holds Steve’s dick steady between his fingers as he takes it into his mouth again and goes back to running his tongue along the underside.And he just does what he thinks feels right.He moves his head back and forth, tracing the lines and curves with his tongue the way that Steve seems to like and sucking with an amount of pressure that doesn’t strike him as too hard or soft.  He’s honestly kind of afraid to take it too far into his mouth, but Steve doesn’t seem to mind, because he’s breathing hard and his hand is tight in Jonathan’s hair and it’s all turning him on more than he even thought it would.He sucks a little harder, takes a bit more of his cock, and then he sets a pace, bobbing rhythmically and drinking in the soft sounds that Steve is making above him.He reaches up with his free hand to cling to the hem of Steve’s shirt, the other still holding him in place as he becomes more and more comfortable with what he’s doing.

“You’re doing so good,” Steve whispers breathlessly, and Jonathan knew he wanted a compliment but this one is something else entirely.  It not only boosts his confidence but goes straight towards his dick.Something about such a statement is really fucking hot, and he hums around Steve’s cock in response, which earns a noise from Steve as well, and that’s all Jonathan needs to just lose himself in the moment.

He sucks hard, and his mouth is making messy wet noises and it should be gross but it’s just as sexy as everything else and he can feel Steve tensing as his soft noises get more frequent.He wants to make him come so bad, he realizes, wants to make him moan and toss his head back and he hates that Steve can’t be as loud as he wants him to be right now but just knowing that he’s making him feel good is enough for now.  Just having his cock between his lips pulls it all together.

It slowly just starts to feel like second nature.  He gets the pressure right, the suction right, finds the right spots to press his tongue against.  Steve is keeping his hips deathly still and Jonathan knows he’s doing it as not to make it any harder for him and he loves that.  He loves...this.  And even though it’s sort of taxing — his jaw is starting to hurt and his legs are cramping from the position he’s in — the fact that he can feel Steve starting to get close is almost disappointing.  As much as he wants to make Steve feel good, he doesn’t want it to be done with so quickly.

He nearly gags as he takes a bit more of Steve’s cock into his mouth, and he’s about to pull off to give himself a second to recover when Steve literally _shoves_  his face back, palm pressed right on his forehead.He doesn’t even have a moment to consider what just happened before Steve comes, hot on his face, with a throaty noise that’s less than quiet and definitely not discreet enough for Jonathan’s liking, but _so_  fucking hot.  The hands in his hair tighten and pull and that makes him moan a little himself, just combined with everything else that’s going on right now.  It’s all almost too much.  He feels it once, twice, three times, and then Steve’s hand loosens in his hair, and the whole thing is over.

Steve pants above him for a second as he regains his senses, and then he laughs, breathy and scratchy from his lack of oxygen.

“I came all over your face.”

Jonathan reaches with one thumb to wipe his left eye clean, so that he can open both of them and look up at him. “Yeah.  That is a thing you did.”

Steve laughs harder this time, and Jonathan holds back his urge to join because he doesn’t want to encourage him.He closes his eye as not to risk any transfer into it, and watches with the other as Steve crosses the room to rummage through the laundry.

It should be a little dehumanizing that he has cum in his eyelashes, but Jonathan sort of likes it.  He’s not sure what to make of that.

Steve comes back with a tee shirt and kneels down in front of Jonathan, draping the fabric over two fingers so that he can wipe the offending eye off first, then the rest of his face, delicately stroking his cheek with his thumb.It feels...wonderful.It’s something Jonathan could’ve easily done himself, but Steve is taking care of it for him, and when he opens his eyes he’s smiling at him fondly and Jonathan wants nothing more than to melt into him and...well, maybe grind against his leg while he’s at it because he still _really_  wants to be touched too.

He sits back against the door as Steve drops the shirt to the floor next to them, and Steve shoves Jonathan’s messy hair out of his face, settling down in front of him.

“So how many blowjobs do I owe you for one that awesome?” Steve asks, grinning, and Jonathan laughs, flicking his hair unnecessarily out of his face again so he has an excuse to look away.

“It’s negotiable.”

Steve nods, smiling, and inches a little closer to Jonathan, crawling up in between his legs.“Okay, well... What do I owe you right now?”

Jonathan spreads his thighs a bit for him, allowing him the room to climb in closer. “As long as you touch my dick, I don’t care.”

Jonathan tips his head back against the door with a gasp as Steve reaches to palm at him through his jeans.He’s pretty sure he’s willing to take anything that Steve wants to give him.

“You know dinner was my mom’s idea, right?” he says, choking back a moan as Steve rubs at him roughly.

“Of course I do,” Steve assures, pressing a light kiss to his jaw.

“I just don’t want you to think that I...I mean, I didn’t tell her anything.”

“Well, I fucking hope not,” Steve laughs, sitting back a bit to look at Jonathan.His hand stops, but it’s still resting atop the crotch of Jonathan’s jeans, and he wants him to move it again so bad. “ _Hey mom, Steve made me jizz in my pants the other day._ ”

“Oh, fuck you,” Jonathan laughs, shoving Steve’s shoulder. “You know what I mean.”

“I know what you mean,” Steve says softly, smiling at him slightly.Jonathan’s not sure he really does, but he doesn’t argue.He just lets Steve lean in and kiss him again, and shoves his hips up against his hand to give himself something better to think about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this took so fucking long to finish compared to the rest of the chapters, but i was spending a lot of time thinking about the trajectory of this fic. tags are gonna change, the summary is gonna change, this porn with plot is just getting a whole makeover. i admire all of you writers that know what the fuck you’re doing from the beginning cause i am not one of them


	11. The Summer

“There’s a...lot of weeds out here.”

Steve looks up at the back of Jonathan’s head as he wades through the brush, and watches as he turns and meets his eyes for a moment, laughing.

“None of these are weeds.They’re...plant life.”

“You can not tell me that none of these are weeds.”

Jonathan just shakes his head and Steve continues to follow him through the woods, blindly trusting that he knows where he’s going even though everything around them seems to look the same.Jonathan had asked if Steve wanted to come with him while he took some pictures, and of course Steve would never refuse an offer to hang out with Jonathan, but it’s definitely a little overgrown out here for his liking.

Steve has been thinking a lot about Jonathan lately.Of course, that’s not new.Jonathan has been on the forefront of his mind for something like a month now, or maybe longer (he can’t really keep the timeline straight in his head).He’s the person that he spends, well, pretty much all of his time with.But it’s more than that, now.Of course it is.

Now he’s thinking about Jonathan in his bed, Jonathan underneath him and moaning for him, Jonathan smiling at him as he looks up at him from under thick lashes.He thinks of the scenarios that have happened thus far and ones that he’s simply constructed in his brain, rolling them over and over in his brain when he can’t sleep at night.He knows he’s gotten in deep, and he doesn’t know exactly what’s happening but he knows this is all getting sort of real.It’s scary and exciting and unfamiliar all at the same time.

He’s relieved when they come to a clearing, the sun shining down on the grass like a beacon and illuminating the dandelions and wildflowers scattered about, which are technically also weeds, by the way.

Jonathan plops down in the grass, propping his arms up on his knees, and Steve follows suit, lowering himself down next to him and sitting arm to arm with him.

He likes that they can still share moments like this.Despite the changing dynamics in his and Jonathan’s relationship, things between them aren’t inherently sexual.They’re still just friends before anything else.They still sit around shooting the shit about meaningless things, joking around and asking dumb questions and slowly learning more and more about one another.He was afraid that hooking up a couple of times would change that, but if anything it’s only made their bond stronger, and to Steve at least, it’s proven that their relationship can withstand pretty much anything.

Jonathan pulls out his pack of cigarettes, shaking two out into his hand and placing them both between his lips.Steve turns to watch him as he lights them both at the same time, then hands one over to Steve, who accepts it with a murmur of thanks.

“I wish you could look at your photos like, right after you take them,” Steve muses, sticking the cigarette between his lips and taking a slow drag. “How do you know if they turned out?”

Jonathan shrugs, lifting his camera over his head and placing it in the grass to his left. “You just get a feel for it.I like not knowing exactly what I’m gonna get until it’s developed.”

Steve nods, blowing smoke up into the air. “Well, I’m sure they’ll be good.Your pictures are always good.”

Jonathan smiles slightly, taking a hit off of his own cigarette. “Yeah...whatever.”

Steve has learned that a sheepish smile and a ‘whatever’ is Jonathan’s version of, ‘you’ve flattered me’.He only really says ‘thank you’ in response to things that are a big deal, but that’s okay with Steve.It makes it mean more when he does.

Steve works at his own cigarette for a moment, glancing at Jonathan and watching as he does the same.He looks so fucking pretty.He’s been noticing how beautiful he is lately, how his hair always hangs in his eyes and somehow just draws more attention to them, how his lips move when he’s thinking and the dimples that make an appearance any time he makes the slightest expression.He doesn’t just look sexy when he’s beneath Steve; it’s pretty much just all the time.

He’s not sure when his feelings towards Jonathan became lustful, and he’s even less sure of when they became romantic, but he knows that now he can hardly process the thought of Jonathan without it being accompanied by desire.  It’s an explosive sort of affection that he’s not sure he’s ever felt before, and he spends so much time reeling over it, and even more time acting on it, that he hasn’t had much time to work out the kinks and actually come to understand what it means.

Perhaps not knowing what it means makes things a little bit easier anyways.

Jonathan turns to meet his eyes, and Steve rubs his nose, looking away and taking another hit of his cigarette.

“Are you gonna enter these in that contest you were telling me about?”

Jonathan shrugs again, blowing smoke slowly out from between his lips.“I don’t know yet.I have a lot of pictures to go through.It just depends how they turn out, I guess.”

Jonathan has been looking into a lot of ways to broadcast his photography lately.  Steve supposes he’s always done as much, but his interest seems to have increased exponentially since they first started spending time together, and he assumes that it’s because Jonathan realizes that his portfolio, his accomplishments, are becoming much more relevant the closer he gets to graduating high school.  He only has one year left, and then it’s him and his dream against the big wide world.

“Hey,” Steve says suddenly, grabbing Jonathan’s attention.

Jonathan turns to look at Steve, shoving his hair out of his face with his free hand.

“About NYU...I mean...What are you caught up on?  I mean like, what’s stopping you?”

Steve thinks he might already know the answer to that.If it was his dream to go states away to a college in totally uncharted territory, he would do it, he’s sure he would do it.But he would be scared.Leaving all your friends and family and familiarity behind isn’t an easy thing to do.And Jonathan...Jonathan isn’t like Steve.He’s not so spontaneous, so eager.He’s methodical.He thinks things all the way through and considers every angle, and Steve is starting to see that maybe this quality just ends up leaving him at a standstill.No steps forward, no steps back.

But Jonathan also has more to stay for than Steve ever would.His mother, his brother, the people he cares about most.He has responsibilities in his home and even though Joyce has picked up a lot more hours and Jonathan has less financial burden than he’s alluded to Steve that he once had, he still takes care of Will in a way that maybe only a big brother can.He thinks he gets it.But he wants to hear what Jonathan has to say.

“Fear, I guess,” Jonathan says after a moment, pausing to finish off his cigarette before putting it out on the sole of his shoe, rubbing the lit end on the rubber. “It’s a long way from home.”

“It is,” Steve agrees, fiddling with his own cigarette between his fingers.“But it’s...I mean, it’s your thing, you know?”

“I know,” Jonathan says, nodding. “And I’ll go, I’m sure.If they accept me.It’s just scary to think of being all alone out there.”

It’s the first that Steve has ever thought of Jonathan as afraid of being alone.He supposes everyone is.But he’s just always been so good at it.

“You know what’s gonna happen, right?” Jonathan says before Steve can think of a response. “I’ll go to college and...this...” He waves his hand in a circle, encompassing himself and Steve in an invisible bubble. “We won’t have this anymore.I’ll be gone.”

Steve twists his lips to the side as he considers this, nodding.He always knew somewhere in him that all this was temporary.That he’ll go to school in the fall and he and Jonathan won’t see each other every couple days like they do now.Jonathan will go to school and they’ll both be busy with homework and jobs and their lives apart from each other.He tries not to think about it much but he knows it’s the reality of the situation.There’ll be next summer, sure.But what will things be like then?Will these moments not feel like magic anymore?Will they lose their luster?It makes him feel sick in the pit of his stomach to think about that.

“You’re here now,” Steve says finally, tossing his burnt-out cigarette into the tree line. “We have now.”

Jonathan nods, and he doesn’t look convinced, but he doesn’t say anything else.They both sit and stare into the woods for a moment, at the trees rustling in the breeze and all the weeds or plant life or whatever it is.Then, Jonathan slowly lowers his head onto Steve’s shoulder, his blonde hair tickling his neck as he settles it there.It fits almost like a puzzle piece.Perfectly, like it’s meant to sit right in that spot.

Steve reaches up and cards his fingers through Jonathan’s hair, tracing gentle circles against his scalp.He wants to just sit like this forever.He hates that there really is a possibility of these interactions, these fleeting moments becoming nothing more than just a memory.  An emotionless memory, one that no longer invokes a stirring in the pit of his stomach and a lurching in his chest.  He doesn’t want Jonathan to become just another person in the world that he once knew.

Jonathan turns his head to brush his nose softly against Steve’s neck, his breath warm and soft on his skin, and he feels him sigh, not so much contentedly as melancholically.

“Do you think we should just stop?”

It’s a vague question, but Steve knows what he’s asking, knows that he’s questioning the whole trajectory of their relationship right now.What if they do stop?Right now.Steve’s sure that whatever spark is between them won’t fade, and they won’t be able to just be...simple again.There’s no point in stopping right now.There’s nothing to enforce their doing so.

“Do you want to?” he asks softly, his voice almost a whisper but still loud in the still air.

Jonathan sighs again, his lips brushing lightly against Steve’s neck. “No.”

Steve nods, twirling his hair around his fingers.“We have this summer,” he says softly, his voice wistful in contrast to the excited way he’d always said it before. “Let’s just...enjoy the summer.And do whatever.And then when it’s over...we can figure shit out.”

“Okay,” Jonathan whispers, pressing a light kiss to Steve’s skin.It feels so...intimate.Has different connotations than the way they’ve kissed before.The entire atmosphere of this moment is just different, like something’s hanging in the air that he can’t quite put his finger on.Resignation, perhaps.Desire for something that can’t really be.

He tips his head to rest it atop Jonathan’s, staring straight ahead but not truly seeing anything before him. 

“This summer, okay?” he says again, knowing he’s trying to convince himself as much as he is Jonathan. “We still have time.And...when the summer is over you better apply to go to NYU.New York needs you.”

Jonathan chuckles softly, his breath blowing against Steve’s neck.

“I will.”

Steve nods, and even though that was the answer he had solicited, it almost disappoints him.It’s comforting to know that he isn’t holding Jonathan back, but just the very idea of all this coming to an end is enough to make him sad.

He turns his head so his nose is in Jonathan’s hair, breathing in the scent of it.It smells like cigarettes and drugstore shampoo, and a scent that he’s learned is just _Jonathan_ , something musky that he doesn’t think he could accurately describe if he tried.  It just _is_.It smells familiar and nostalgic, even though Jonathan is right here with him now.It takes him back somewhere that he can’t quite place, and he supposes that’s because it’s not just one location that it’s taking him back to.It steers him through all his experiences with Jonathan in a flash, and he doesn’t have time to hang onto any of them.

“It’s kind of like a sick joke, isn’t it?” Jonathan says softly, and Steve can feel him smile a little bit in the crook of his neck even though his voice sounds wistful. “I never had much to stay for, and now that I’m getting close to leaving...”

“You have everything to stay for,” Steve finishes, voice muffled by Jonathan’s hair. “I know exactly what you mean.”

He truly does.  Steve has few ties to Hawkins, very little worth his while, and yet Jonathan is enough to make this town light up in a way that it never has before.He gives it color and tenacity, and although this had been exactly what Steve wanted — memories made to ensure that leaving Hawkins wouldn’t seem so amazing — he realizes that maybe it’s something he shouldn’t have wished for.He just never thought that he would find this much to love in their tiny town.He didn’t think the memories he was making would be this sweet.

“That’s just how shit works, I guess,” Jonathan says, and Steve wonders if everyone faces these sorts of emotions before they try to make a life for themselves.He can’t imagine that they possibly do.

But maybe their suffering isn’t entirely unique.And maybe it isn’t important right now.Because as Jonathan presses another chaste kiss to Steve’s neck, he doesn’t feel so bad about things.He just feels _good_.And he wants to enjoy the passion of the moment, the way he’s been trying so hard to do.

Perhaps that’s what’s so wonderful about Jonathan’s photos; that they’re infused with the feelings that accompanied the setting they were taken in.Maybe that’s why Jonathan likes photography so much.Because he’s just as infatuated with the atmosphere of every magical second as Steve is.And maybe that’s why his pictures are so wonderful.Maybe it makes them special in a way that no one can truly describe.

Jonathan deserves NYU.NYU doesn’t deserve Jonathan.But then again, Steve’s not sure _he_  deserves Jonathan himself.He’s just glad that he has him.And as he presses a kiss to Jonathan’s hair, he decides that it’s best for no one to argue with it.Because perhaps no one and no place deserves someone like Jonathan at all.They just revel in the fact that he’s chosen them and appreciate every second.That’s what Steve’s going to do for the remainder of this summer.And he’s sure everything else will work itself out.

It always does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here’s a short, introspective chapter to cut through all the smut. i was drunk while writing the latter portion as well as proofreading this so i’m sorry if it’s a mess


	12. The Present

Jonathan pushes his wet hair out of his face, shoving off the strands sticking to his forehead.They feel softer than they usually do; apparently expensive shampoo really is all it’s cracked up to be.He kind of understands why Steve’s hair looks so good all the time.

Especially now that he’s been keeping it down and letting it do its thing.

Steve’s house sort of just feels like home at this point.Jonathan’s spent so much time here that he’s comfortable just rifling through the kitchen or rummaging through Steve’s drawers for clothes. 

Which is what he’s currently doing, trying to find _anything_  to put on under the giant tee shirt of Steve’s he pulled over his head a moment ago.It wears like a dress on him, the hem stopping at his mid-thigh, but he still feels wildly exposed beneath the thin layer of fabric.

He turns as Steve emerges from the bathroom, rubbing a towel through his hair.He looks...so pretty.Water is still collecting on his shoulders and in the ridges of his collarbones and his hair somehow looks even nicer when it’s wet and curling wildly.

“Do you not own any underwear?” Jonathan asks, focusing back on the clothes he’s foraging through.

“Wrong drawer,” Steve says pointedly, dropping the towel from his head to around his shoulders.He has one wrapped around his waist too, and Jonathan swore that people only dirtied two towels at once on TV but he supposes Steve is rich enough that they could probably throw their towels away and buy new ones after every shower.

“Well, what drawer then?” Jonathan asks, shutting the one that he has open and craning his head back around to look back at Steve.

“You don’t need underwear.”

“I really do.”

Steve crosses the room, coming to wrap his arms around Jonathan’s waist and pull him flush against his body.He’s positive that Steve can feel everything through the ratty tee shirt and he can feel the redness slowly crawling up his cheeks.For some reason it doesn’t matter how many times his dick has been in Steve’s hand, he still gets all shy in situations like this.

“Why?I’m just gonna take them off anyways.”

Jonathan rolls his eyes, but he makes no effort to argue, because why would he want to?

“Oh, so that’s what we’re doing right now?”

Steve nods, burying his face in the crook of Jonathan’s neck and pressing a light kiss to his skin. “Yeah.Did you have something else in mind?”

“Putting on clothes,” Jonathan says, tipping his head to the side so Steve has more room.

“Psh,” Steve scoffs, peppering light kisses up Jonathan’s neck as he’s done so many times before at this point. “That’s no fun.”

Their weekend thus far has been oddly, but not necessarily unwelcomely, domestic.Steve’s parents are away _again_ , and Jonathan showed up on Friday so they could watch movies, fool around, watch some more movies and fool around again.If he didn’t know any better it would feel almost as if they were actually _boyfriends_.Steve even took Jonathan to work earlier today and picked him back up when he was done.But he knows their relationship is more complicated than that, and more temporary, and that this isn’t something they’ll be doing forever.It makes falling asleep in Steve’s bed bittersweet, but he knows that Steve is right when he says that there’s no sense in not making the rest of the summer count.They still have a month or so left to be...whatever they are, and do whatever this is, and his fear of growing too attached is far outweighed by his desire to keep this up as long as possible.

It’s fine for now.They’ll deal with the repercussions later.

He lets Steve back him up to the bed, falling back onto it and settling back as he climbs over him.Steve’s towel is starting to look a lot less secure, so at least Jonathan isn’t the only one overexposed right now.

Steve pulls the second towel from around his neck, tossing it down on the ground, before moving up to continue pressing open-mouthed kisses to Jonathan’s neck, earning a soft moan.He runs his hand down to rest on Jonathan’s thigh, just below the edge of his tee shirt, and Jonathan arches a bit without even really meaning to.Steve just got him off, like, three hours ago, but he’s already getting hard again and he doesn’t know how he’s able to do that to him.All Steve has to do is _exist_  and it turns him on.

He whimpers as Steve moves up to kiss him, his hand slowly trailing upwards and bringing the hem of his shirt with it.He strokes gentle lines up and down Jonathan’s naked thigh, fingertips tickling the skin, and even though it’s such a simple sensation it ignites something inside of him that only Steve’s hands are capable of.

Their lips work together lazily, comfortably, tongues darting out lightly to meet, and like it always does it feels easy, and right.But it’s different this time, because they’ve never been this close to each other wearing this little clothing, and it feels so much more intimate than any experience before.Jonathan doesn’t hate it as much as he might think that he would.It’s not as terrifying as he would expect and it just feels...warm, and comfortable.And hot, honestly, because Steve’s hand is dancing closer and closer to the crook of his thigh and he wants him to touch him so badly.

Jonathan’s lips part, breaking the kiss, as Steve digs his fingers into his skin, squeezing his thigh in his hand, and he just wants _more_ , more of Steve and more touches and more kisses and more reasons to make noise.Which is something he’s learned he’s very good at by the way.And Steve is very good at making him do.

As if reading his mind, Steve shoves the hem of Jonathan’s shirt up and grips his cock confidently, making him moan in the back of his throat.It feels so good every time, like each touch is the first one ever, and he lifts his hips up to encourage him, wet hair splaying against the comforter as he rolls his head back against it.Steve’s hands always know exactly what to do, and now is no exception.He pumps his cock roughly, earning another choked and whimpery sound, and Jonathan spreads his legs a bit, as if instinctively.Their position right now feels so erotic — and obviously it is — but more so than usual.He feels so exposed and small underneath Steve and it’s not registering as a bad thing.He likes it.

He whispers a soft, “Fuck,” as Steve sets pace with his hand, paying just enough attention to the head of his cock to make him shiver and want more, and more.He reaches up and grabs Steve by the shoulders, pulling him down to kiss him again roughly.Because kissing him is the only thing that can possibly make this even better than it already is.

Messing around with Steve used to frighten him, in a certain way.He always had the nagging thought in the back of his head that maybe at any point Steve wouldn’t want this anymore, or that he wasn’t doing good enough or that this would end all too soon leaving Jonathan sad and horny and confused.But their conversation the other day made him realize; it doesn’t fucking matter.It’s okay that it might end.It’s okay that it’s all unfamiliar and foreign and every new interaction is a new experience entirely for the both of them.It’s okay to just enjoy it _right now_  and say ‘fuck it’ to everything else.And that’s what he’s decided he’s going to do.

It’s easier to just forget the future and focus on the present for a bit.

He squirms under Steve’s touch, moaning softly into his mouth and just losing himself in the heat of the moment.He can feel Steve’s breath on his lips and his hair tickling his forehead as it hangs down over it, and Steve’s hand feels _so good_  and he just wants everything from him right now.He reaches down with one hand and tugs Steve’s towel off in one fell swoop, and he can feel the smile against his lips as they kiss.

“Hey,” Steve murmurs, pulling back to speak against his mouth.Jonathan just moans in response because he’s not sure why Steve thinks he can hold a conversation while he’s jacking him off like this. “I wanna try something.”

“That’s ominous,” Jonathan chokes out, his voice strained by another noise that threatens to spill from his mouth.He rolls his hips into Steve’s hand though, hopefully as a gesture to encourage him, because he’s pretty sure he’d let Steve do anything right now.

Steve rubs his thumb over the head of Jonathan’s cock, smearing precum over the sensitive skin.“I wanna finger you.”

Jonathan whimpers just at the thought of it.The combination of Steve jacking him off and imagining his fingers inside of him makes his stomach burn with arousal, and he lolls his head against the bed, not really having the capability or the motivation right now to pretend it doesn’t turn him on like crazy.

He’s fingered himself before.He wonders if Steve suspects that.It’s not that he does it all the time, because he doesn’t, but there have been nights that he’s laid in his bed with his legs spread and two fingers curling inside of him, his head tossed back against the pillow.It’s a unique feeling, a different kind of pleasure than touching his dick, but it’s something that he realizes he definitely wants from Steve.Not just because it feels good, but because the idea of Steve dominating him like that, having all that control...there’s something addictive about that notion.

He opens his eyes to look at Steve, staring at him from under his eyelashes.He can barely keep them open all the way, because all he wants to do is twist them shut and focus on the feeling of Steve touching him.

“Do it then.”

He doesn’t sound nearly as authoritative as he had intended to.

Steve sits back with a smirk, his ministrations coming to a screeching halt, but Jonathan doesn’t even have time to be upset about it because _God_ , Steve looks perfect right now.It hits him all at once that this is the first time he’s actually seen him naked.He’s seen him without a shirt, and without pants, but never both at the same time, and even though he’s tried in his mind to piece them both together and construct an accurate fantasy, nothing he created in his head would’ve ever done Steve justice. 

He’s bigger than Jonathan but in the grand scheme of things, he’s ganglier, all long arms and legs and beautiful tanned skin stretched over his lithe frame.It doesn’t look awkward on him though; he looks graceful, and Jonathan licks his lips as he looks up at him, trying to drink in the moment as quickly as possible before he moves away to rummage in his bedside drawer.

He honestly wants to ask Steve to fuck him, but he knows he’s all kinds of unprepared for that.

So instead he just scoots back on the bed, making himself comfortable against the pillows while Steve tucks his hair behind his ear to get a better look into the mess in his drawer, eyebrows furrowed with concentration.Jonathan would be fine with looking at him all night if he wasn’t so eager for Steve to be on top of him again.

Steve’s hand finally emerges with a bottle of lube in tow, and Jonathan tugs his shirt back down over himself as Steve climbs atop of him, settling between his legs.

“Oh, stop,” Steve says with a smile, pushing the fabric all the way up to his stomach and running his hand along his hip.

“That’s my line,” Jonathan mutters softly, his own lips curving up in a smile.

“What?Oh...” Steve laughs softly, scooting in a little bit closer. “You mean like... _Stop_!”He pitches his voice higher to mock him, and shoves Jonathan’s shoulder, grinning.

“ _Stop_ ,” Jonathan echoes, laughing. “I do _not_  sound like that.”

Steve leans down to hover over Jonathan, trying to fight the smile from his lips. “We’re about to find out what you sound like.”

Jonathan rolls his eyes, but before he can make any remarks back, Steve closes the gap between their mouths and kisses him gently.

It’s a comforting kiss, not heated or rough, and Jonathan sighs into it as Steve’s hand wanders his thigh, warm and rough against his soft skin.He gasps lightly as Steve bites his lower lip, and then he pulls back, sitting up between Jonathan’s legs to focus on squeezing lube over his fingers, squinting at them as he does so.Jonathan wonders idly if maybe Steve needs glasses, or if maybe his expressions are just intense no matter what he’s doing.

He closes his eyes, leaning his head back against the pillow right as he feels Steve’s fingertip press against him, rubbing in a tiny circle.His breath hitches, partially due to the cold sensation and partially just because even the tiniest touch feels amazing.

Steve leans back down to press his mouth against Jonathan’s jaw, grazing his lips over the part where it’s sharpest.Jonathan can feel his breath hot on his skin, slightly ragged even though he hasn’t even been touched himself.It’s fucking hot.

“You good?” Steve asks softly, and Jonathan nods his approval, spreading his legs a bit more and wriggling a bit.

“Yeah,” he whispers, and he supposes maybe he ought to be nervous but he’s just not.He trusts Steve, and he feels safe, and even the fact that his shirt is almost up to his chest and putting everything on display isn’t worrying him at the moment.He just wants  _this_ , all of it.

He gasps as Steve’s fingertip presses inside of him, sliding in with surprising ease, and his hips rise up to meet the touch, to silently beg for him to continue.Obviously Steve gets the message because he doesn’t stop, just keeps pushing in until it’s fully inside and Jonathan can feel the web of his fingers pressing up against his ass.

Jonathan reaches down to take his own cock in his hand, rubbing it gently and deliberately, and he moans softly at the combination of that and the feeling of Steve’s finger.

“You’re good,” he whispers, because he doesn’t want Steve to wait for him to be ready.He’s fucking ready, without a doubt.

Steve still doesn’t do anything right away though, and Jonathan opens his mouth to repeat himself but he’s interrupted.

“Do I just...I mean, is it like fingering a girl?”

Jonathan rolls his hips into his own hand, and it changes the angle of Steve’s finger a little which feels _so_  good, and his voice is whiny and strained when he responds.“I- I dunno.It’s just... just like, curl it.And move it in and out.”

Steve nods, and this time he doesn’t waste any time.He does as he’s told, curling his finger in a beckoning motion and Jonathan gasps, pressing down onto him a bit.

“Yeah...Like that,” he encourages, voice hardly more than a breathy whisper.He squeezes the head of his cock in his hand, his whole body squirmy and fidgety, and Steve takes this to heart.

He curls his finger over and over, pressing it forward like he’s trying to get as deep as he possibly can, and Jonathan moans, rolling his head against the pillow.It seems to give Steve a bit of confidence because he doesn’t stop, doesn’t ask any more questions.He just starts a steady, deliberate pace with his finger and lets Jonathan slowly fall apart.

He can’t stop moaning.The sensation of Steve fingering him combined with that of touching his own cock is making him feel like his head is going to explode and all he can do is relax and let all the noises imaginable escape his mouth.It feels so fucking good, like something deep in his tummy that’s completely unparalleled, and his cock is getting so wet and his hips are moving by their own accord and it’s so much better when Steve is doing it than any time he’s ever done it to himself.

He feels another finger prod next to the first one, and he moans out a, “ _Yes_ ,” which is just intended to serve as permission, but comes out sultry and needy and entirely unlike how he meant for it to.Everything just feels so good right now, and he can’t even think straight, let alone talk straight.

He makes a choked noise as the second finger pushes inside along with the first, and there’s more resistance this time, it’s a much tighter fit.But it makes it feel _so_  much better despite the minor sting.He can feel _everything_ , each tiny movement, and he just moans as that finger reaches the hilt as well, starting to curl and press along with the first one.

“Isn’t there like...a spot I should be hitting?” Steve asks, and Jonathan licks his lips, trying to prepare himself to speak.

“It’s not... _Oh_ fuck, I can’t talk right now, Steve.Just don’t worry about it.”

He seems to obey, because he just goes back to kissing at Jonathan’s neck, his fingers speeding up slightly, and in return Jonathan quickens the speed of his hand on his cock, tugging at it in time with Steve’s pace.He’s not going to last at all at this rate, but he doesn’t really care right now.All he wants is to feel everything, and to come with Steve’s fingers inside of him because _God_ , that is going to feel so good.

He’s a mess of moans and whimpers and wriggling hips, and he can absently feel Steve sucking a hickey right into the side of his neck but it’s the furthest thing from his mind because there’s no way he could focus on that right now.His toes curl as he feels himself getting closer, feels his stomach coiling and his breath getting quicker and more labored.

He makes a noise in the back of his throat, half-holding his breath as he takes in the feeling of everything at once, and his lips are parted as he focuses his hand on the head of his cock, rubbing it quickly and deliberately.It feels like Steve’s fingers are so deep inside of him but he just wants them _deeper_ , and he wishes that they could be.

“I’m gonna come,” he chokes out, breath caught somewhere in his chest, because he is definitely going to at any second now.This is all just too much to contain himself any longer.

Steve presses a soft kiss over the forming bruise on his neck, and he quickens the pace of his fingers a bit, putting his all into it.“I know, baby,” he whispers.

And fuck, that does it.

Jonathan tosses his head back, a couple of breaths coming out in harsh huffs, then turning into a loud, whiny moan as he comes all over his hand and chest, rolling his hips through it.The feeling of Steve’s fingers is like a completely separate orgasm in itself, like he’s feeling two of it at once, and all he can do is just whine and whisper profanities as he rides it out, Steve pressing his lips against his neck all the way through.It feels like it’s never going to end, like he’s just going to be coming forever, but then, it slowly winds down, and he goes totally limp against Steve’s sheets, breathing heavily as he tries to recover.

The feeling of Steve’s fingers slipping out of him is less than comfortable, but he doesn’t have the energy to acknowledge it, and he just lies there as he feels Steve settle against him, half on the bed and half on top of his chest.He’s glad that he’s not in a hurry to move away yet, because right now, Jonathan just wants _him_.

“ _Jesus_ , Jonathan,” Steve mutters, lips moving against his skin. “That was... _Jesus_...You are so hot.”

Jonathan smiles slightly, his hand which isn’t currently covered in cum rising up to rest on top of Steve’s back.“Must’ve been...You called me baby.”

Steve pulls back a bit, and Jonathan tightens his grip on his back as if to keep him from totally moving away.“Yeah, was that too much?”

Jonathan shakes his head, his fingers starting a pattern of soft circles on Steve’s skin.If he wasn’t all sweaty and covered in cum and didn’t want a cigarette so bad right now, he could fall asleep just like this.“No,” he whispers, “I liked it.”

They can play pretend like this.That’s okay with Jonathan.If he’s going to be sleeping in Steve’s bed, wearing Steve’s clothes, and kissing Steve’s lips, then Steve can call him his baby as much as he wants.If anything, it’s encouraged.

They can call each other baby and pretend like this is all forever, because Jonathan is tired of being careful all the time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoy your fucking PORN you filthy animals that’s all this fucking chapter is honestly


	13. The Rain

“No, no no, you’re not understanding.What I’m saying is, what’s so good about Scooby Snacks in particular?”

Jonathan laughs, his whole body curling up as he passes the blunt over to Steve. “They’re just stoners!They don’t care what they’re eating!”

“But they do!” Steve argues, pausing to take a hit, then holding the smoke in his throat as he continues to speak. “You never hear Velma be like ‘Oh hey, Shaggy and Scooby, go into that haunted house, I have some chips’.They want Scooby Snacks in particular.”

Jonathan continues laughing, resting his head back against the seat.They’re parked at their usual clearing again, Steve’s windows rolled down to let in the warm breeze, and Jonathan seriously loves this, loves just sitting around and talking to Steve.Their conversation doesn’t need an overwhelming amount of substance to be interesting, and it feels like they never run out of things to talk about.They can just sit here and bullshit for hours and hours.

Jonathan holds his hand out as Steve passes back to him, taking the blunt between his two fingers and hitting it hard.He’s actually able to finish his half lately without it putting him into a borderline coma, and he realizes that if Shaggy and Scooby are stoners then that probably makes him one too, at this point.

“Oh my God,” Steve says softly, and Jonathan shifts his gaze towards him, blowing smoke out between his lips.  “Oh my _God_ ,” he repeats, turning to grip Jonathan’s arm, and Jonathan laughs incredulously, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion.

“What?”

“Scooby Snacks are fucking edibles.”

Jonathan’s eyes widen, and he slowly turns to look at Steve, staring at him with intense realization before they both lose it at the exact same time, laughter resounding through the interior of the car.

Jonathan no longer feels that he has to worry about their relationship changing.It’s still comfortable and they’re still best friends and doesn’t feel the need to question it.Even though he knows that few things about their relationship are what might be considered _normal_ , he wonders if this is how a romantic relationship is truly meant to be.A close bond, an unrivaled friendship, cut through with romantic and sexual encounters that do nothing but build trust.  Obviously there’s feelings there, that he’s pointedly ignoring, but usually he does a good job of swallowing them down, and it’s comfortable.  If this is how relationships like this are supposed to be, he wonders why he didn’t seek one out sooner.Because this is good.

But he’s glad that he didn’t find something before now.Because Steve is the only person he wants.

As he goes to bring the blunt to his lips again, he notices a small drop of water that’s collected on it, wetting the thin paper with a tiny splotch.He smirks at Steve, thrusting it in front of his face.

“Told you.”

“What?” Steve asks, straining his eyes to pick out what Jonathan is talking about.

“It’s raining.”

As if on cue, a tiny raindrop lands on Jonathan’s face, just below his eye, and he squeezes it shut in response, glancing out the window.Jonathan _had_  predicted this, the moment he’d stepped outside to climb into Steve’s car.The air had felt moist and smelled musty, and when he voiced it Steve had made a joke about him being like an old man feeling the cold in his joints.

“It’s just sprinkling,” Steve dismisses, waving his hand before holding it out to take the blunt between his fingers again.They’ve nearly worked it down to the end, and Jonathan can feel a pleasant buzz in his head.

As if Mother Nature hears him and intends to enforce her superiority, the rain transitions from a light sprinkle to a full-on downpour in what seems like a matter of moments.

“Okay, okay,” Steve exclaims, pointing towards Jonathan’s window. “Roll that up.”

Jonathan does as he’s told while Steve mirrors his action, both of them frantically cranking the windows up as water sprays onto the seats.Steve keeps the blunt hovering over the center console, trying to protect it until the car is fully watertight again.

Steve laughs softly before bringing it back to his lips, his mouth still upturned in a smile as he takes another hit.Jonathan carefully takes it back from him, holding the remainder of it between two fingers and squeezing one last hit out of it before reaching to snuff it out on the rim of Steve’s ashtray (which he conveniently decided to get now that they’ve been smoking so much in here).

“Come on,” Steve says as soon as Jonathan’s finished, stirring in his seat.

“What?”

“Outside,” Steve explains, motioning with his arm. “Come on.”

“What?” Jonathan laughs, rolling his head against the seat to look at him. “It’s wet out there.”

“Exactly,” Steve says, reaching for his door handle. “Have you ever danced in the rain?”

“No,” Jonathan says flatly. “Because I don’t wanna get pneumonia.”

“That’s a myth,” Steve says decidedly, opening his door. “Come on.”

 

When Steve first drags Jonathan out of the car he’s reluctant.He says he just wants to sit around, that they’re gonna get cold, that his seats are gonna be all wet afterwards.But he manages to convince him that this is what their whole summer is supposed to be about; making stupid memories and not caring about cold air and wet seats. 

So he agrees.

And he runs around the clearing with Steve, the two of them shoving each other around and laughing and spinning and holding their arms out to let the rain fall over them.It’s stupid and cliche and beautiful and there’s no one he’d rather be doing it with than Jonathan.

He laughs as Jonathan grabs him by the shirt, whipping him around and pulling him close.The rain hasn’t let up at all; if anything it’s coming down harder, and their hair is sticking to their faces, matted and frizzy with the humidity.

Jonathan tilts his head upward and brushes their noses together.His breathing is heavy and labored from running, and Steve can hear it even over the pattering of the rain on the leaves around them.He can feel it too, hot against his mouth, and he closes his eyes, taking in the moment for everything that it is.Perhaps more than any of the others before, this is the one he wants to remember.

Their lips brush softly against one another’s, but neither of them closes the gap to turn this into a kiss.They just stay the way that they are, panting against each other’s mouths and relishing the feeling between them.

“I want you to call me baby again,” Jonathan says suddenly, and it’s almost a whisper, his voice so low that if he wasn’t as close as he is, Steve wouldn’t hear it over the sounds around them.

Steve _wants_  to call him baby again, wants to whisper it into his ear and say it after every sentence.He doesn’t know where that’s coming from, honestly.Things between them have always been...simpler than that.They’ve been complicated but they’ve been simple.Friendship, sex, that’s it.Just those two things.Nothing more meaningful to tie them together.Or at least, nothing that’s been spoken.It wouldn’t make any sense to speak them into existence.This is all going to be over all too soon, so why harden the impact?

“Baby...” he whispers against Jonathan’s lips, because despite the internal struggle he’s having, his mouth wins over his head.He reaches to place his hands on Jonathan’s waist, his palms pressing against his skin through his soaked tee shirt.“Baby.”

They’re both silent for a moment, holding their position and just letting the rain fall over and between them.If Jonathan wants to say more, he doesn’t, and Steve makes no effort to either.

“Fuck me,” Jonathan says decidedly, changing the dynamic in a snap.It brings the warm innocence of the encounter to a screeching halt.It feels like the way they normally are.

Steve laughs in disbelief, tightening his hands on his waist.“Wha—Here?Now?”

“The car,” Jonathan instructs, and Steve has never heard him be this authoritative.He tugs him forward by his shirt, stepping back towards where they’re parked. 

If Steve was going to be disappointed that the moment they shared in the rain was over, he doesn’t have the time to do so.Because before he can even think, he and Jonathan are running over to the car and climbing into the backseat, which definitely has a familiar feel to it.Jonathan scoots back onto it, laying with his knees propped up, and Steve clambers over him, climbing between his legs.

It’s immediately hot and heavy, Jonathan tangling his fingers in Steve’s soaking hair, and their mouths crushing together.Steve’s head is spinning, because this is all happening so fast and Jonathan’s mouth is warm and wet against his own and _holy shit_ , wait, did Jonathan seriously ask him to fuck him?He makes a soft noise into Jonathan’s mouth as he pulls his hair hard, biting his lower lip, and he has no idea what’s gotten into him but he’s not going to question it right now.He will later.

Jonathan’s hands scramble for Steve’s shirt, fingers wrapping around the fabric and clinging to it as they always do, and Steve settles more closely on top of him, pressing his hips downwards.He can feel Jonathan’s cock through his jeans, and he has no idea how he manages to get so hard so fast but he can’t even think about it because Jonathan is moaning softly into his mouth, drowning out anything going on in his head.

Steve props himself up with one arm, and uses his free hand to grip Jonathan’s hip, reconnecting their lips in a rough and deliberate kiss.Jonathan’s making little whimpery noises against his mouth and he’s confused for a moment because he’s hardly even _doing_  anything, but then he thinks about their position, and the way he’s pressed flush against Jonathan’s body and the way that they’re about to _do this_  and he thinks he understands.He rubs his hips down against Jonathan’s, earning a needy moan, and it’s so fucking hot that he doesn’t know how he’s gonna be able to make out for any longer when he knows that they could be doing more.

He reaches between them to unbutton Jonathan’s jeans, dipping his hand beneath his waistband and rubbing Jonathan’s cock.It’s warm against his cold skin, and it turns him on as much as the beautiful noise Jonathan makes into his mouth, their kiss hardly a kiss anymore, just all lips pressing against one another’s and breath hot between them.

He grips him in his hand, pumping his cock up and down because he doesn’t want to wait, he just wants to make Jonathan fall apart beneath him.And apparently he’s doing a good job, because Jonathan is squirming under his touch, tugging at his shirt and rolling his hips.He moves down a bit to kiss at Jonathan’s neck, because he knows that he likes it, and he likes doing it.He likes feeling Jonathan tip his head and the hum of his throat as he moans in response.He likes just taking control and he likes that Jonathan wants him to.

He sets a pace with his hand, jacking him off slowly and rhythmically, and Jonathan leans his head back against the upholstery, whining softly in the back of his throat.Steve grazes his teeth along his neck, biting gently, and it makes another of many whimpers erupt from Jonathan’s mouth.

“Come on,” Jonathan whispers, arching his hips. “Please.”

Okay.

Steve pulls back, his hand slowing to a stop, and he sits up to look at Jonathan’s face, at the redness in his cheeks and the way his lips are red and bitten and parted with pleasure.He looks beautiful, as he always does, and Steve wants him so bad.But Jonathan is being...not Jonathan.He’s always so shy and complacent and right now he’s calling the shots on everything, and Steve isn’t saying he doesn’t like it, because he does, but it all just seems off.

“Are you okay?” Steve asks softly, pulling his hand out of Jonathan’s pants because it really doesn’t feel like the right place for it when he’s asking that sort of question.

Jonathan sighs softly, tugging at Steve’s shirt to pull him a little closer, and he accepts his prompting, leaning in a bit.

“Can we just...fuck, and pretend everything is normal?Please?”

“Hey...”

“Please,” he repeats, his voice a gentle whisper, and Steve wants to ask him to explain, but he sounds so desperate that he doesn’t.He just leans in and presses their lips together softly, doing as he’s asked.

He thinks he knows what Jonathan means.That he’s just as afraid as he is.That the little moments of sweet intimacy make this relationship feel way too real, and just laughing and joking and having sex and ignoring the connotations is so much more comfortable.That it’s easier to ignore the burning in his chest to be close to him and replace it with burning in his tummy by shifting the experiences into something more sexual.If they’re both on the same page, he thinks he’s okay with it.

He reaches back into Jonathan’s waistband again, grabbing his half-hard cock and resuming his ministrations.Jonathan breathes softly into his mouth, shifting beneath him, and something in the air feels like it’s changed.  The forced intensity and Jonathan’s desperate urgency is no longer present, and it feels right now.  It feels like how this ought to be.

He returns to the pace he was keeping prior, working Jonathan back up to where he was before, and despite the minor lapse in their momentum, it’s easy to get him to respond.His breath is speeding back up, his hips starting to squirm, and Steve pulls back from the kiss to graze his teeth against his lower lip, biting it gently.

“You still want me to—“

Jonathan cuts him off, nodding.“Yeah.”

Steve nods back, pulling away to dig around on his floorboards.“I think I have, uh...”He rummages through for a moment more, then emerges with a little plastic container and a grin.“Coconut oil.”

Jonathan’s shoulders shake with a small laugh.“Coconut oil?”

“Yeah,” Steve confirms, tongue prodding at the inside of his cheek as he tries to fight his own laughter. “I use it for—“

“Your hair, I know.”

They look at each other for a moment, and then they both succumb to laughter, not necessarily because anything is all that funny but just because it feels good to do so.And like that all the tension fully dissipates, leaving them the way that they always are.

They’re still fighting off giggles while Steve peels Jonathan’s wet jeans off his legs, tugging them to his ankles unceremoniously, and Jonathan helps by kicking them off his feet, struggling out of his underwear too.The rain is still pattering down on the windows, and it smells like weed inside the car and they’re laughing about nothing and Steve supposes if they’re going to do this somehow, it should be exactly like this.

He gets the cap unscrewed from the container and then works at unbuttoning his own jeans, but before he can get any further, Jonathan grabs him by his shirt again, a smile still dancing on his lips.

“C’mere,” he whispers, and he pulls him down for their millionth kiss.

Steve smiles against his lips, reaching down to grab at one of Jonathan’s thighs, and Jonathan responds by wrapping it around him, lifting his hips up towards him.He ruts up against him, letting out a little whiny noise, and Steve wants to hear more of it, so much more of it, so he decides it’s time to stop stalling.

He dips two fingers into the open container as they kiss, working his lips against Jonathan’s slowly, and pressing down against him as Jonathan rubs his cock against the front of his boxers.The fabric doesn’t leave much between them, and it feels good, really good, and he just wants everything _now_ , wants to see Jonathan with his head tossed back, moaning at the things he’s doing to him.He brings his hand up and squeezes it in between them, pressing a finger against Jonathan’s hole, and he whines, pushing his hips down against it.So easy to please.

Jonathan whimpers as Steve slowly pushes his finger inside, and he curls it a bit as he does, rubbing his fingertip against the inside of him, and he earns for it a needy, throaty sound that resounds in his ears.He can only imagine what Jonathan will sound like when he’s actually inside of him.Just the thought of it makes his cock twitch, and he ruts it down against Jonathan’s again, making him tense with pleasure.

He sets a pace with his finger, moving it in and out quickly, and Jonathan whines into his mouth, rolling his hips against Steve’s.The wetness of their clothes would usually be getting uncomfortable by now, but Steve is so focused on Jonathan’s voice and his lips that it isn’t even important right now.He presses another finger in with little warning, and the noise Jonathan makes would make him stop if it wasn’t coupled with an arch of his hips, which makes Steve let out a muffled moan of his own into Jonathan’s mouth.

They just go on like that for a bit, Steve fingering Jonathan quickly and roughly and Jonathan rubbing their hips together, letting out soft little sounds with every breath.It’s hot and heavy and does nothing to allude to their prior awkwardness because everything just comes so naturally and the fire between them drowns out anything and everything else.Then Jonathan reaches into Steve’s waistband, pulling his dick out and taking it in his hand to pump it expertly, and it’s so wet with precum and so hard from all of this and Steve pulls away from the kiss to moan softly, his breath hot against Jonathan’s mouth.

He curls his fingers roughly inside of Jonathan, and they’re moaning against one another’s lips and everything feels _so_  good right now and they haven’t even gotten into it yet.

They’re going to though.Because Steve doesn’t think he can possibly wait any longer.Being needy is usually Jonathan’s job but his hand feels so good on his cock and he knows that fucking him is going to feel twice as good.

He pulls his fingers out slowly and Jonathan whimpers at the loss, but Steve wastes absolutely no time scooping his hand into the coconut oil and shoving Jonathan’s hand off his dick so that he can rub it over it.It’s messy and slick and as it melts it drips all over the both of them but it’s the last thing on their minds right now, besides Steve’s mental note that he’s going to have to buy new hair products.

He pulls back so that he’s sitting between Jonathan’s legs, and like always he takes a moment to just look at him.At the way his legs are spread for him and the way he’s looking up at him with glazed-over eyes and the way his hair is all messed up and _fuck_  he swears he has never seen anyone look this completely sexy without even trying to.

Steve presses the head of his cock against Jonathan, and he spreads his legs a bit more, whining softly.Steve suddenly feels afraid to break him, and he gently runs the fingers of his free hand up Jonathan’s thigh, taking a deep breath as he pushes in just a tiny bit.

Jonathan’s mouth drops open, and he makes a tiny noise in the back of his throat, squeezing his eyes shut.Steve just wants to shove all the way in and fuck him hard, but he sucks in another breath and pauses a moment.

“You good?” he asks softly, fingers unconsciously digging into Jonathan’s thigh.

He nods quickly, reaching for something to cling onto and settling for the headrest of the seat he’s laying in, curling his fingers around it.

Steve licks his lips and nods back, pressing his hips forward a bit more and pulling from Jonathan another small choked-up sound.It goes on like this for a few minutes; stopping, starting, Steve asking for approval and Jonathan silently giving it.It’s painstaking, because Jonathan is so fucking tight and he feels so good around him and every centimeter further he goes the harder it is to maintain control of his hips.It’s this sort of primal desire that he’s never felt before, a near loss of control of his body that he has to fight with everything in him.But he fully stops at only about three fourths of the way in, hanging his head for a moment.

“ _You_ good?” Jonathan asks breathlessly, and when Steve opens his eyes to look at him he’s smiling slightly, teasingly.He laughs softly, nodding, and moves to hover over him again, propping one hand up on the seat.

“Yeah.Fuck.”

His voice comes out much more strained than he expected it to.

“Is Steve Harrington gonna be a minuteman?” Jonathan asks with a gleam in his eyes, though one that’s hardly distinguishable from the lust that’s shrouding them.

“Jesus...Do you ever shut up?”

Jonathan chuckles slightly, and Steve’s glad it isn’t a full-on laugh, because he’s pretty sure if it was, with as tight as he is, it would literally just shove his dick straight back out. “Make me shut up.”

Steve’s up for that challenge.

He bites his lip as he pulls out just a bit, then pushes back in as slowly as possible, but it seems to do the trick, because instead of opening his mouth to speak, Jonathan opens it to gasp, sucking in a sharp breath.

“Does it hurt?” Steve asks softly, hips shuddering with the effort of keeping them still.

“A little,” he breathes hoarsely. “Keep going though.”

Steve nods and repeats the motion, prying another gasp from Jonathan’s mouth, and then he does it again, and again, until the gasps turn into a tiny moan, and he accepts that as permission because he doesn’t think he can take it anymore.

He starts moving his hips shallowly, steadily, and he groans lowly along with Jonathan’s soft noises, squeezing his eyes shut.It’s tight, so fucking tight, and it feels so fucking good and maybe the coconut oil wasn’t such a bad idea because the inside of Jonathan feels so wet and oh my God, maybe he is really going to brand himself as a minuteman.But he doesn’t stop, because he doesn’t think he could if he tried.

With every thrust he starts going in a little bit further, and Jonathan throws his head back, whining in the back of his throat and rolling his hips upwards to meet Steve’s.He doesn’t know whether he should focus on how Jonathan looks and sounds or how good it all feels because there’s just so much right now and it’s completely overwhelming.It’s nothing like any of the sex he’s ever had before, he’s never had something that makes his head spin like this and makes it so that he can’t see straight.He’s never had anything like what he has with Jonathan at all.

Jonathan brings his other leg up so that he can wrap both of them around Steve’s waist, and he locks them there, pulling Steve’s cock all the way inside, and they both moan and just like that there’s just no rhythm to it anymore.

He reaches up and wraps his arms around Steve, digging his fingers into his back, and Steve stops trying to control himself, just fucks into Jonathan hard and fast and earning tiny little choked noises with every thrust.He opens his eyes for a moment to look down at him, at the way his mouth is hanging open and his eyes are squeezed shut and his eyebrows are scrunched together, and he looks so fucking gorgeous that Steve moans just at that, angling his hips upwards a bit.And apparently that was the right move, because Jonathan lets out this broken, strained noise, his eyes shooting open, and digs his nails into Steve’s skin.

“Oh _God_ ,” he whines, his eyes falling closed again. “Oh God, yes.”

Whatever he’s doing right, Steve keeps doing it.

He fucks Jonathan hard and fast, moaning softly while Jonathan drowns out his noises with whimpers and choked sounds in the back of his throat, and he almost looks like he’s about to cry but he’s dragging his nails down Steve’s back and tilting his hips upward for more and Steve takes the liberty of reaching down to grab his cock, rubbing it quickly and unsteadily.It’s wetter than he thought was even possible, and Jonathan gets even louder, arching his back at the touch.

“Fuck, you’re gonna make me come,” he chokes out quickly, and this just encourages Steve, because he’s so fucking close too and if this is what Jonathan sounds like now he can only imagine how he’ll sound then.Everything is sloppy and hurried and unrhythmic but it’s so fucking good and Steve wishes this could last longer than it’s going to.

Jonathan starts to get quiet and breathy and by now Steve knows what that means, so he tries to focus on fucking him harder and deeper and not focus on the coiling in his own stomach, because he just wants to get him there before anything else.He can feel him tensing beneath him and God, is he getting even _tighter_?It feels like he’s about to lose it, like his head is going to explode or something, but that’s nothing compared to when Jonathan comes, because oh my _God_.

Jonathan’s whole body nearly lifts up off the seat, and he chokes out a loud moan, his eyes opening wide only to roll into the back of his head as he lets out a steady stream of whimpers and moans.They’re so high and loud and breathy and it’s so fucking hot and combined with the fact that he gets so tight around Steve that it seems impossible, he’s pretty sure it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

He jacks Jonathan off through it, cum getting all over his hand and Jonathan’s tummy and chest and he can feel his cock twitching hard against his palm and he’s pretty sure Jonathan could take a little more but he has to stop to pull out hurriedly, grabbing his own cock and pumping it hard as he comes all over Jonathan’s tummy and well, pretty much everywhere on him.

It’s the best orgasm he’s ever had, without a doubt.It washes over him hard and he practically sees white, rolling his hips into his own hand as Jonathan’s arms loosen around him.He moans loudly and unabashedly, hips twitching hard, and as quick as it started, it’s over, and he all but collapses on top of Jonathan’s body.

They’re silent for a moment save for their labored breathing, and Steve is suddenly aware of how fucking humid it is in here, whether from their wet clothes or just from their breath up until now he isn’t sure.He presses a soft kiss to Jonathan’s shoulder, sighing deeply.

“I feel sticky,” Jonathan mutters, and Steve laughs softly, burying his face in the crook of his neck.

“There are worse things to be,” he says softly, trying to regain his composure.And his ability to move.

“Name one.”

Steve laughs again, trying to wriggle into a different position that’s a bit more comfortable.“Mauled...by a bear.”

Jonathan snorts, his hand that’s still resting on Steve’s back moving to trace light circles against it. “Not sure that’s in the same category.”

“You didn’t give specifics.”

Most people in something resembling a relationship would be whispering sweet nothings to one another after having sex for the first time.They’d be cuddling and kissing and saying all these abundantly saccharine things to one another.Steve has been there, he’s had that experience, so he can say with certainty that this is worlds better.It feels so much more natural, and engaging.And freeing, really, because neither of them have any obligation to act any sort of way or do anything.They’re just _Steve_  and _Jonathan_  and that’s it.

And maybe they have lapses, sure.Like that moment in the rain, or the times when Steve looks at Jonathan and wants to just grab him and hold him and kiss him all over.  Obviously, considering earlier, Jonathan has thoughts like that too.But they’re few and far between, and as long as they stave them off and keep things just like this, they can be okay.They can shut off the worries and the doubts and the wistfulness and just enjoy spending time together.Along with fucking.Regularly.

Because that’s definitely something they’re going to be doing from now on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i kind of half-assed proofreading this because i spent so long writing it that my eyeballs hurt but enjoy. i feel like it’s worth mentioning that i am literally always watching the office while writing so maybe there’s some merit to that. it’s like my trade secret


	14. The Dog Days (Interlude)

They eventually find their rhythm.They always do.

The days start to roll over one another as they edge into the latter half of the summer.Jonathan is still working a few days a week for some extra cash in his pocket but nearly every day that he has free time, Steve is coming around and picking him up, or hanging out over at his place.Will has stopped questioning his presence and just started appreciating his willingness to run around in the yard with him and listen and try to understand as he talks about his favorite games and movies. 

But aside from the kids, and Jonathan’s mom and the occasional sighting of one of Steve’s parents, it’s pretty much just the two of them existing in their own separate little world, time slowing down and speeding up all at once but more importantly sitting on hold around them while they just go day-to-day, doing the things that they always do.

They smoke and laugh and they drink on Friday nights when Steve’s parents are away and they have nothing better to do than roll around on Steve’s bed kissing languidly and falling asleep before they can ever manage to get around to anything of importance. 

They’ve both separately resigned themselves to the fact that this is temporary, that it’s not going to be like this forever, and that all they can do is cross that bridge when they get there.There have been mentions of this fact, whispers of it again on sleepy or drunken evenings, and incidents similar to that in the rain have come to pass occasionally, but overall it seems like they’re on the same page; leave the complicated things out of this and enjoy it for what it is.It’s what they’ve talked and agreed upon so many times but they have to keep working to maintain that idea, and to maintain its integrity, because at times it’s hard but they’ve realized that it’s necessary.

And really it’s not _that_  hard when they just fill the void with sex.Constantly.When Jonathan looks at Steve and his soft hair and his beautiful frame and wishes he could curl up against his chest and settle there, instead he grabs him by the shirt and kisses him hard and they fuck wherever it is they’re sitting, or go somewhere that they can do so.When Steve can’t stop staring at Jonathan’s dimples and wants to tell him how cute they are, instead he reaches over and touches him until all he wants to say is that he’s sexy instead.It’s an unspoken but simple arrangement.They no longer question spontaneous bouts of intensity, of adamant desire that is acted upon to its fullest extent.They know what it means and they know why it’s happening and they accept that it’s a necessary trade-off for things more innocent and more meaningful.It becomes a part of them, just like their long conversations and laughter and bantering and time wasted doing nothing.Sex becomes a surrogate for their yearning to act on their budding feelings and it becomes an unspoken language in itself, becomes the meaning in the first place.

Neither are quite sure by whom, or when, but the choice is made to just stop talking about all the things that raise doubts.College, the shortness of the summer in the grand scheme of things, all of the topics that touch too close to the ground.

And instead they just exist in one another’s company, in their safe little bubble where none of that has to touch them.

The days pass by with ferocity, hardly giving either of them a chance to stop and think.Jonathan starts having to wear shorts despite his hatred for them, because the heat of the summer is unrelenting.Late June turns into July, and they light off fireworks in Jonathan’s backyard, laughing in the dusk of the night and smoking cigarettes on the back porch.

Sitting by the pool, bonfires, drive-in movies, somehow they squeeze it all in, between everything else that’s happening around them and everything that’s happening between them.And it seems that despite the unexpected additions, they’re accomplishing exactly what they set out to do — making this the most memorable summer either of them have ever had.

Jonathan wins his photography contest.Not first place, but he still makes it in the magazine.Steve starts buying furniture for his dorm, picking out little odds and ends and an overpriced futon.

The summer is 92 days long, but 92 days have never felt so short.

And they go, and they go, and they go, like flipping pages of a book in the wind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this hardly even counts as a chapter which is why i’m uploading it like 2 seconds after uploading the one prior but i felt it was a necessary segue into the more important ones to come so enjoy all 700 words of it


	15. The Morning

Jonathan looks so beautiful against Steve’s sheets.

It’s become a familiar sight for him, Jonathan laid back against his unmade bed with his pupils blown wide and his lips bitten and red. He’s had Jonathan beneath him countless times like this, but in a certain sense he feels he’s never gotten used to it, because it hasn’t lost his luster. Jonathan still looks just as shockingly sexy as he did the first time he touched him.

And right now he somehow looks even more beautiful. It’s sometime in the morning, early enough that pinkish light is streaming through the blinds and casting bright lines on Jonathan’s milky skin. It almost looks like he’s glowing.

Jonathan stayed over last night. It’s not an uncommon occurrence for him to do so, but it feels different this time because Steve is making the trek to West Lafayette today, to settle into his dorm for college. Classes don’t start for him for another week or so, but today the housing is open for students and he has a lot to get sorted out, as reluctant as he is to leave. 

It’s only a couple of hours from home, but more than the distance he’s just dreading his departure from...all of this. Dreading what’s going to happen next. Because he really doesn’t know. He’s been avoiding the thought up until this very moment. 

He plans to avoid it for just a little bit longer.

He settles in between Jonathan’s legs under the cool covers, stroking a hand up his naked thigh. Jonathan makes a sleepy, contented noise and lolls his head against the pillow.

"What time is it?" Jonathan asks softly, his voice even softer than usual and thick and scratchy with sleep.

"No idea," Steve answers, his hand sliding up to Jonathan’s hip and stroking up and down the warm skin.

Jonathan just hums in response, obviously not too awfully concerned with it. Most people look awful when they’ve just woken up but Jonathan looks even better than usual, he thinks. His cheeks are slightly flushed and his hair is all messy and it’s deliciously endearing and if he wasn’t already naked, tempting Steve with his exposed skin, he might sit here and stare at him a little longer. But there are things he’d rather be doing.

He squeezes Jonathan’s hip softly, and he feels his leg rise up to hook over the back of Steve’s thigh, pulling him down a bit lazily. 

Steve presses down, rubbing against Jonathan, and his cock feels so good against his thigh, warm and hard because it always is first thing when he wakes up in the morning.

Jonathan moans softly, contentedly, and rolls his hips up, every movement like molasses, slow and thick and sweet.

Steve leans down to kiss him gently, and Jonathan submits without a second thought, rubbing languidly against Steve’s thigh while they kiss slowly. 

It feels like time is standing still in this moment, like the hourglass isn’t almost run out and they’ll just get to stay in bed like this all day, and then the next and the next, for the rest of their lives. Just remain a single entity of body heat and soft sheets and careless moans.

Steve runs his fingers softly up Jonathan’s hip, to his tummy, and his chest, mapping out every curve and plane of his body as he lets Jonathan use him for his pleasure. If Steve thought Jonathan was needy on a regular basis, he’s so much more so in the mornings, which he’s learned over the course of the past month or so. He falls apart in seconds, self control far overpowered by sleepy desire, and it works out really, because Steve has always been horny in the mornings, eager to touch and to please and to give and take everything he can. None of the girls he was ever with were like that. They were annoyed by his early-hour advances, shoving him away in favor of more sleep. But Jonathan is always eager, always turns to putty beneath his hands.

He’s not sure if it’s because he’s a guy, or if it’s just because Jonathan is seriously special. 

Jonathan moans softly against his lips, reaching for Steve’s hand and pulling it down towards his cock. Steve smiles slightly, and usually he might tease but when Jonathan is like this it’s hard not to just give him everything he wants. He feels so small and soft beneath him, and impossible to say no to.

He wraps his hand around Jonathan’s dick, stroking it slowly, and Jonathan responds unabashedly, arching his hips into Steve’s hand and spreading his legs a bit more beneath him. His breath is coming out in little puffs, and he pulls away from the kiss to brush his nose against Steve’s, whining softly against his mouth. Jonathan bites his own lip, chest rising and falling slowly but harshly. There’s a casual desperation about him right now that’s just as hot as when he’s heated and rough, just in an entirely different way. 

Steve moves down to pepper kisses softly down his neck, tongue pressed out between his lips to tease his skin as he does. Jonathan moans softly, reaching up to lace his fingers into Steve’s hair, which is slightly matted and messy with sleep but Jonathan doesn’t seem to mind at all. 

He continues trailing kisses downwards, lips pressing to Jonathan’s collarbone, and he bites it gently right where it’s the most prominent, taking the skin between his teeth. Jonathan gasps softly, and Steve just responds by pumping his dick a little harder and faster, trying to encourage him to make more noises.

Jonathan tilts his hips upwards, and Steve can feel the rise and fall of his chest while he’s kissing his skin. He works his cock for a few more moments, listening as his breath gets quicker and his noises get louder, and he would be fine with making Jonathan come like this, writhing beneath him and buried in Steve’s pillows, but he reaches down again for Steve’s hand before they can get to that point. 

He pushes Steve hand downwards, between his thighs, and he doesn’t have to get it all the way to where he wants it for Steve to get the picture. He slides his hand forward, pressing his finger against Jonathan’s rim, and he earns a soft whine for doing so. Steve presses his finger in a tight circle, rubbing deliberately albeit teasingly, and Jonathan shakes a bit under his touch, one hand finding its way up next to his head to curl into the thin, white sheets. 

"Steve," he whispers, and he doesn’t have to elaborate any more for Steve to know what he’s asking for. 

Steve moves to lean over the side of the bed, feeling around on the floor with one hand for the lube they’d discarded there last night. His palm first finds Jonathan’s shirt in a heap on the carpet, and then his own, and at last, what he’s looking for.

He hoists himself back up, settling back between Jonathan’s thighs so that he can work lube over his first two fingers, and Jonathan still looks so sleepy and innocent and soft even though now the blankets are pushed down to reveal his spread thighs and his hard cock straining against his stomach. He should be a picture of vulgarity, but he just looks...sweet. He just looks like Jonathan.

His fingers find their previous position, pressing against Jonathan gently, and Jonathan tips his head back, squirming a bit at the contact. Steve presses a finger in with ease, because it’s really not an event to do so anymore. He doesn’t even need to in order to comfortably penetrate him, but getting to finger Jonathan and get him squirming and his cock all wet beforehand is half the fun, really.

Jonathan moans as the digit slides inside of him, pushing down against Steve’s hand, and he responds by pressing his finger deeper inside of him, pushing it as far as it can go and curling a fingertip against his inner walls, making him toss his head back and let out a desperate whiny noise. He slides in a second finger and repeats this motion, working expertly because by now he knows exactly what Jonathan likes. He knows what makes him moan, what makes him fall apart, what makes him beg for more. And he wonders idly what he’ll do with all this knowledge when he won’t have the privilege of applying it nearly every day. 

Jonathan reaches down to stroke at his own cock with a soft moan, touching himself without purpose or intent and Steve knows it’s because he’s not ready to come yet, not from this. He wants to make this last, drag it out, wants to savor this feeling for as long as he can until it gives way to more because that’s how they always do things. They fuck like there’s no one else in the world, nothing happening around him. Like they have all of eternity to just focus on one another.

It’s not true, but it feels better that way. 

Steve picks up the pace of his fingers, and Jonathan moans a little louder. He’s starting to wake up a bit, get more into this and less engulfed in the sleepy embrace of the morning, and Steve doesn’t even have the heart to mourn his lazy, tired demeanor about it because this is sexy too, just as everything about Jonathan is.

"Fuck me," he moans softly, pressing his hips upwards into his own hand and in turn getting Steve’s fingers at a better, deeper angle. "I want it so bad."

Okay, maybe he’s not as patient as Steve thought that he was.

Steve smirks, pulling his fingers out slowly. "You want what?" 

"You know what I want."

Not patient, but still shy, albeit a bit less so. Steve doesn’t press the issue any further though, because in all honesty he doesn’t want to wait any longer either.

Steve leans down to kiss him again, once, twice, a million more times, and Jonathan’s clinging to Steve’s waist with one hand, the other still fisting in the sheets, when he prods the head of his cock against Jonathan, holding it steady with one hand. This is comfortable by now; he knows the speed at which he should go, how long Jonathan needs before he can just surrender control and do what his body tells him to do. It usually doesn’t take long, because Jonathan always wants it as much as Steve does.

Jonathan’s lips part in a gasp as Steve moves his hips forward, pushing inside of him slowly, and he whines in the back of his throat, the noise vibrating against Steve’s mouth. He eases in slowly, steadily, all the while Jonathan arches beneath him and meets his movements, making breathy little sounds with each inch.

Steve pauses a moment when he’s fully buried inside of him, pulling back to meet Jonathan’s gaze, and his eyes are full of lust and want and something else that’s always there that Steve can only identify as the affection that he’s usually so good at hiding. They stare at each other like this for a moment, Steve taking all of Jonathan in, and then he starts to move his hips and it breaks the trance completely.

Jonathan moans softly, rolling his hips upwards, and Steve brushes their lips together, making a low noise in the back of his own throat. 

He finds a pace quickly, slowly moving his hips in and out, and he’s focusing on getting just the right angle, making it feel perfect for Jonathan, and he’s good at it, knows his body like the back of his hand. Jonathan tosses his head back, making a soft, broken sound, and Steve just takes it as encouragement, making a soft noise of his own as he pushes slowly in and out of him, his hips moving fluidly and languidly. He can feel Jonathan’s fingers digging into his skin, feel his thighs clamped around his hips as if to keep him from stopping, and Steve dips down to press a light kiss to his jaw, breathing softly against it.

Jonathan moans loudly as Steve picks up the pace a bit, fucking into him a little harder, a little faster, and he relishes in all the little noises he’s making, the way his breath keeps catching in the back of his throat and his thighs are trembling around his hips. He pulls back to look at him, forcing his eyes to stay open for a moment despite how good Jonathan feels around his cock, and it just makes it better, makes his dick twitch inside of Jonathan and his stomach burn with pleasure. His hair is splayed out against the pillow, the sheets twisted into his hand and the muscles in his arm flexing with the intensity of his grip. He looks something bordering on ethereal. 

Steve takes one of Jonathan’s thighs in his hand, hiking it further up on his hip to get a deeper angle, and obviously Jonathan appreciates this because he lets out a loud moan, moving his hips to meet the movement of Steve’s. His hand finds its way down to touch his own cock again, grabbing it in his hand and pumping it quickly, and Steve bites his lip, humming in the back of his throat as he tries to keep his focus on moving his hips just right.

"You close?" he asks softly, and Jonathan just nods, his breath hitching in the back of his throat as he rolls his hips into his own palm. Steve uses this opportunity to pick up his pace, thrusting into him harder, and faster, and with all the intensity he can manage. He wants to make Jonathan fall apart, wants to make him feel as good as he possibly can, and he looks down at him and watches as his chest starts heaving more quickly and shallowly and his lips part silently. Jonathan’s eyebrows are scrunched together with concentration, his eyes squeezed shut as he focuses on everything he’s feeling, and Steve has to force his own eyes shut because if he looks any longer he’s gonna be the one to come.

Instead Steve shifts his attention to the tightness around his cock, to the way Jonathan is clinging to him for dear life, to the little breathy noises that are escaping Jonathan’s lips. He never gets used to this, it never loses its luster. It’s just as hot as all the times before, feels just as good. If anything it’s better, because now they know what makes each other tick, know just the right angles to tilt their hips to, aren’t so afraid to moan for each other.

Jonathan’s breath hitches, and he makes a little sound in the back of his throat, which Steve has come to recognize all too well, so he speeds his hips up and opens his eyes just in time to watch Jonathan’s orgasm wash over him.

Jonathan’s mouth opens wide, a broken cry escaping his mouth, and then he starts rolling his hips, riding through it with little moans and whimpers and noises of pure bliss. He tenses with each little shock of pleasure, painting his tummy and chest with cum, and Steve just moans as he drinks in every second, every little twitch and sound and expression on Jonathan’s face.

As soon as he starts to still, Steve pulls out, pumping his cock hard and fast and parting his lips as he stares down at Jonathan, watching as he takes in quick and rough breaths, and it doesn’t take long for him to come too, adding his own cum to that collecting on Jonathan’s torso. 

He can feel Jonathan stroking his side gently as he rides through it, rolling his hips into his hand and moaning low in his throat. It grounds him a bit, reminds him that it’s Jonathan that did this to him and that he’s the reason that he feels so good right now, _so_  fucking good.

He rolls over next to Jonathan when it’s over, sinking into the soft blankets, and Jonathan sighs softly, making no move yet to try and clean himself up or leave his position. Steve doesn’t either, because all he wants to do is lay here right now, Jonathan’s arm brushing against his own and the blankets cool against his skin.

"You know this has to be the last time, right?" 

Steve turns at the sound of Jonathan’s voice, blinking lazily at him. He’s not quite sure how to respond to that, because in the back of his mind he supposes that he’s right, that maybe they should stop here and that should be the end of it. But another part of him swears that this doesn’t have to end here, that they could make things work, somehow. It’s only a couple of hours that’ll be placed between them.

"Not necessarily," Steve says finally, softly and uncertainly. 

Jonathan reaches up to rub his eye, trying to force the remaining sleepiness out of his body. "Can you get me a towel or something? Please?"

Usually there would be a joke here. Some sort of banter and laughter and then everything would be fine. But Steve doesn’t say anything.

He climbs out of bed and crosses the room, rifling through the dirty clothes for something to clean Jonathan up with. They’re both silent, which is weird for them, but he supposes that neither of them really know what to say.

He hops back onto the bed with a dirty tee shirt, handing it to Jonathan and watching as he uses it to mop the cum off of his tummy, folding it over to the dry side to make sure it’s done thoroughly. He tosses it onto the floor when he’s done, sitting up a bit in bed.

"Listen," Jonathan says, softly, hesitantly, like he’s trying to collect his thoughts. "You’re leaving today. It’s...we... We knew this was coming." 

Steve pulls the blankets up over his lap, nodding. He’s avoiding Jonathan’s eyes, like he shouldn’t be allowed to look at him right now. Like if he does he won’t be able to think straight. He supposes he probably wouldn’t.

"It’s just...I mean...I don’t know, Steve. Do you not agree? I mean, how are we supposed to make it work when you’re gone?"

"It’s only a couple of hours," Steve murmurs, toying with the sheets. 

"What about when I go to New York?"

Steve pauses a moment, considering this. That’s always been what truly hung over their heads, hasn’t it? A trip to Lafayette isn’t that big a deal. But there would be no end in sight. It’s not as if they would have to endure it for a single school year and then they’d be close to each other again. They’d have to endure it, they’d have one more summer, and then Jonathan would be gone, too far away for anything to matter anymore.

"I mean, can’t we just cross that bridge when we get there?" Steve asks, his words contrasting with his thoughts. Because despite his fears and the sinking feeling in his chest that this will never be the same again, he just doesn’t want it to be over.

"That’s...naïve," Jonathan says softly, leaning over the edge of the bed to dig around for his clothes.

Steve laughs incredulously, because okay, that’s just... Something about that statement stings deep, and it pisses him off. "Hasn’t this whole thing been naïve?" he asks, voice not so low anymore. "I mean, _Jesus_ , you’re always too fucking scared to do anything besides fuck me—"

"Give it a rest," Jonathan says flatly, finding his shirt and pulling it over his head. "Can we just not fight about this?"

Steve takes a deep breath, trying to figure out what to say. He’s not trying to fight, it’s just... 

"Let’s say we keep going," Jonathan says, tossing the blankets off of his lap to climb out of bed, surveying the floor for the rest of his clothing. "I visit you on weekends. It kinda works but we drift apart a little bit. Then we spend next summer together." He locates his underwear, looking up at Steve as he pulls them on. "We get close like this again, maybe even closer, cause we’d have spent more time together by then. And then—" He holds his hand out, shooting Steve a halfhearted smile. "I leave, and it fucking sucks. End of story."

Steve pokes his tongue into the side of his cheek, considering Jonathan’s words. He doesn’t really see how the pain is avoidable either way. 

"So...you’d rather just suffer now than later? And not get to spend more time together?"

"Steve," Jonathan starts, buttoning his jeans up. "If we don’t stop this now...I..."

Steve looks up at him, waiting for him to continue, and Jonathan fiddles with his shirt, adjusting it so it sits more comfortably over his waistband.

"I need to go to NYU," Jonathan says decidedly. 

"Of course," Steve replies, meeting his eyes. "Of course you do. That’s...that’s your dream. Why wouldn’t—"

"If this goes on any longer then it’s gonna be really hard not to stay."

Steve nods carefully, and he thinks that maybe, he actually understands. He’s not happy about it, he doesn’t want Jonathan to leave. He wants him to stay and come to Lafayette with him today and help him set up his room and lie on his shitty futon with him and joke around like they always do. But he understands. He doesn’t want to hold Jonathan back. And Jonathan’s not going to let him.

As mature of a decision as that is, as much as Steve wants Jonathan to follow his dreams, it still hurts somewhere inside to know that he’s not worth it. Even if nothing is. 

Jonathan plops down on the bed in front of Steve, and for the first time Steve feels like the vulnerable one, like the one who’s uncertain and needs protection.  It’s an unfamiliar position. 

Jonathan smiles slightly, reaching forward to place his hand on his knee.  “You wanna smoke one last blunt?”

Steve tosses the blankets off his lap and with them Jonathan’s hand, shaking his head.  “No, I need to go take a shower.” 

He doesn’t stop on his way to the bathroom to look at Jonathan’s face, because he doesn’t want to feel any worse than he already does.


	16. The Dial Tone

Jonathan is taking it well, all things considered.

He’s smoking a pack a day but that’s not too bad compared to all the other things he could be doing.Drinking, sleeping around, isn’t that what people do when they go through a breakup?He supposes he’s just not doing those things because he doesn’t have much access to them.And he supposes this doesn’t even really count as a breakup.But it feels like one.

Which is why when his mom tells him he’s got a phone call from Steve, every emotion in the book surges through him at once, not one-by-one but in a giant burst, too quick for him to differentiate between them.Obviously excitement is one of them, though, because he hops up from where he’s sitting on the couch, running to grab the phone from her hand.

“Steve?”

“Jonathan.”His voice sounds different over the phone, but Jonathan can still hear the relief in his tone, loud and clear.How long has it been?Just a couple of days?It feels like it’s been forever.

“What’s...uh...”Jonathan shifts the phone from one ear to the other, propping it up on his shoulder. “What’s up?”

“I just wanted to talk to you.”

Jonathan chews on his lip, trying to decide what to say.It’s not that he’d explicitly stated that they shouldn’t talk anymore, but that’s kind of just how he assumed things were going to be.That they’d had their last hurrah and it was time to move on from one another, in the safety of the distance and their busy schedules.Jonathan hasn’t started school yet, but he will next week, and he knows that it will effectively take up a lot of his time.He’s just sort of been hoping it’ll distract him from everything.

Obviously he’s silent for a little too long, because he hears Steve’s voice ring over the phone again.“You there?”

“Yeah,” he says softly, leaning his head against the wall above the phone.He sighs softly, trying to collect his thoughts. “What did you want to talk about?”

Steve’s the one who pauses this time, and Jonathan realizes that maybe that wasn’t the best thing to say.

“I mean, does it have to be anything in particular?”

Jonathan’s suddenly aware of his mother’s presence, hovering in the kitchen, and he keeps his voice a little lower as he speaks again.“I just...I just thought we weren’t...”

“Gonna talk anymore?Is that what you wanted?”

Jonathan can hear the hostility in Steve’s tone this time, a sharp contrast to the way that he sounded when he’d first picked up.He knows he’s not being fair, he really does, but he just doesn’t know what else he’s supposed to do.

“No,” he says finally, and his own voice is sharper this time as well. “You think this is what I want?It’s just...I’ve said everything I need to say.”

“Well, that makes one of us.”

Jonathan sighs again, thrumming his fingers on the back of the phone.“Well, what?What do you want to say?”

“Nothing.It’s nothing.”

Jonathan opens his mouth to respond, but before he can say anything he’s met with a dial tone, vibrating loudly in his ear.

He replaces the phone on the hook with a loud smack, jumping at the unintended force, and like clockwork Joyce pokes her head out of the kitchen, smiling at him.

“So, how’s he doing?” she asks excitedly, and Jonathan takes a deep breath, his tongue poking at the inside of his cheek.

“I’m going on a drive.”

 

It’s really not Jonathan’s intention to end up on I-65.

He knows it’s a terrible idea.His car has seen better days (when it was in the possession of someone else, no less), the sun is starting to set, he’s made absolutely no arrangements, and so on and so forth.There’s just about every reason for him not to go, but just one reason for him to go, and that one is huge enough for him; to chase the remnants of Steve, in any way that he can.

Maybe if he wants Steve it would make more sense to just hop on the highway and drive down to Lafayette.He could show up at his dorm, obviously Steve wants to talk to him.He thinks he remembers what housing unit he was in.But that just seems like a bad idea.  _Jonathan_  was the one who said they should break this off, _Jonathan_  is the one making this decision, so what sense would it make for him to show up at his doorstep?It’s just mindless desperation, it would be impulsive and stupid and bear too many consequences.So it’s better to make an impulsive decision that will have no consequences at all.  And when he speeds past the green sign that reads ‘Chicago 85’, he decides there’s no sense in turning back.He’s already on his way.

He cranks the radio up to drown out his thoughts.All of them in general, but mainly the ones about Steve.And it really doesn’t work.He can’t stop thinking about the jokes that they’ve made and the things Steve has said that made him double over with laughter until he couldn’t breathe.He can’t stop thinking about all the things the two of them have talked about that they, oddly enough, completely agree on, and the way their brains just seem to work the same way sometimes even though they’re two totally different people.He can’t stop thinking about how Steve’s body feels against his own, but not even in a sexual way.Just his embrace, his warmth, the way it makes him feel safe.

He doesn’t want to stop thinking about him, he supposes, as much as he tells himself that he does.But he has to.He firmly believes that.

He grits his teeth, trying to swallow back the lump in his throat.He’s making the right decision, right?That they should be done?He just doesn’t see how it could possibly go any other way, he doesn’t see a path around it.Jonathan doesn’t want to be one of those people with a bunch of big dreams that gives them all up because he fell in love.He knows people like that, and he always sees a sadness behind their eyes when they talk about it, despite their assurances that they’re happy with their decision, that it all worked out anyways.He doesn’t want to spend the rest of his life wondering what could’ve been.

But he supposes in a sense he’s going to be stuck doing that anyways.

He stops at a gas station to call his mother on a payphone.He lies and tells her he went to see Steve, because he knows that she won’t question it.He feels sort of awful, because he never lies to his mom, but what is he supposed to say?‘Hey mom, yeah, I spontaneously drove to Chicago because I don’t know how to deal with my feelings’?  It’s just not something he feels he can articulate.  It doesn’t make a whole lot of sense to him either and he knows it wouldn’t make sense to anyone else.  He doesn’t want to worry her.  Lying is just easier.And he hasn’t really been himself lately anyways.He’s doing a lot of things he’s not proud of.

By the time he gets to Chicago it’s dark and he’s feeling a lot less like this was the right plan.He doesn’t know the city the way that Steve seemed to, and he doesn’t have anyone with him and he doesn’t know which parts of town are the bad ones or good ones because really they all sort of look the same to him.

He’s realizing that maybe he’s not so good at being independent anymore.  He used to be so content with being alone, he was comfortable with it.  He enjoyed it even, liked being engulfed in his own thoughts and nothing else.  But now his thoughts feel deafening, and he just wants to ramble and think out loud and have someone to listen.  That’s something that he’s used to having at this point, and as much as he hates to admit it, he supposes that maybe his relationship with Steve over the course of the summer has changed him as a person.  He’s not sure if it’s been for the better or worse, but it is what it is.  And right now, amidst the bustle of the city, he feels deafeningly alone and helpless.

And lost, not in a figurative sense of the term.  Well, yes, in a figurative sense, but more pressingly, in a literal one.

So he does what any sane person would do in this situation.He pulls to the first dirty motel he sees with vacancy and decides he’s going to regroup.

It’s definitely not the hotel that Steve took him to in the beginning of the summer.The fluorescents are harsh, the carpet is worn and there’s no one at the front desk when he first walks in.The air smells sort of musty, like it rained inside or something, and he glances around as he peruses over to the window, trying to decide if he should just turn back.

He could just sleep in his car or something.  People do that in Chicago, right?

He’s actually about to consider the idea when an older man emerges from a door in the back, raising his eyebrows at him.So now it’s a little too late and awkward to turn back without at least saying something.

“Uh, hi,” Jonathan offers, shoving his hair out of his face. “Do you have any rooms?”

“Yeah,” the man answers, and he sort of feels like he’s looking at him like he’s stupid but Jonathan brushes it off.It’s probably all in his head.“You want a single or a double?”

“Uh, single.”

 

The comforter is rough and uncomfortable and Jonathan does not feel at home here.

To be fair it’s because Jonathan _isn’t_  at home, but when he was with Steve in the city he felt comfortable and warm, like he belonged here.Now he just feels alone in a place he doesn’t know and in a sea of unfamiliar faces.It’s scary and isolating and it makes him feel sick to his stomach and he wonders if maybe this is what it would be like if he went to New York.He wonders if maybe he’s giving up something that feels right for a place that feels like a black hole.

It always felt like the thing he wanted most; to move to an unfamiliar place and become a whole new person, to see new places and new people and new experiences.But now it feels like that’s all changed.All he truly wants is to be with Steve, wherever he has to be.And that scares him.Because he feels like he’s become one of those people who gave up their dreams already, before he’s even gone anywhere or done anything.

Jonathan rolls over onto his side, curling up on top of the covers.The lights are off because they’re just as glaring as the ones in the lobby, like they’re using neon bulbs in the lamps, and the room is illuminated by the lights in the city, pouring over him.He feels cold even though the thermostat said 72 when he walked in, and he just wants to talk to Steve, all he wants to do is talk to Steve.

Fuck it.

He reaches for the phone on the bedside table, putting it to his ear and dialing without a thought.He just wants to tell Steve what he’s thinking, wants to ramble on and on about his fears and the fact that he doesn’t know if he wants to do this and the fact that it’s stupid that he’s worrying about it even because he still has a year left to decide.He wants Steve to say something funny and make him laugh so that he can forget everything he’s freaking out about and ideally he wants Steve to make the drive to Chicago right this very second even though that’s totally ridiculous.

Actually, more than anything, what he wants to do is tell Steve that he made a mistake and he just wants to be with him and wants to kiss him and wants Steve to fuck him and actually, no— sex has become their tool to express how they feel but that’s not what he truly wants.He just wants to hug him.He wants to hug him and be hugged back and think about things when he’s done.

But he only gets through the ‘7-6-5’ before it dawns on him that he only knows Steve’s home phone number.He never asked for his number in his dorm because...because he broke up with him.

He’ll accept that now.

He slams the phone back down on the receiver, even harder than he did when he was done talking to Steve earlier, and stares at it for a long moment, pressing his lips together.

And then he just lets it wash over him because he’s not afraid anymore.

His shoulders shake with a sob, and he pulls his knees up to his chest, hugging them close to himself.He can’t remember the last time he cried.He’s pretty sure it was when everything was fucked up, when they were under the thumb of monsters from a different dimension and his brother was missing and he didn’t know if things were ever going to be the same again.So the fact that he’s crying about this, that tears are streaming down his cheeks over the very thought of a guy that he’s been fucking over the summer...

No, Steve’s more than that.He has to just cut it out and be honest with himself.

Steve is absolutely his best friend.Maybe one of the first best friends he’s ever had, and if nothing else unquestionably the closest.Steve is the first person that he’s ever felt that he could fully be himself with, just drop all the walls he’s always had built up and say whatever he wants around.He has better memories with Steve than he has with anyone else, or at least in higher quantity.He supposes that his relationship with Steve is all the good things he’s ever had with anyone else, smashed together into one.And when he thinks about it he’s fucking stupid to even consider letting that go.

Steve is more to Jonathan than he ever imagined he could be, and more than he was ever willing to admit to himself that he was when he had him.  Obviously he’s important, because it’s only been a couple of days and he’s breaking down about not being with him.

But he can’t do anything about it right now.So he just cries, and cries, and cries, until he falls asleep on top of the scratchy comforter under the lights of the city.


	17. The Passenger Seat

When Jonathan picks himself up and drives home the next morning he’s not sure what he expects.He doesn’t really have a plan, doesn’t have a set course of action.But what he doesn’t expect is to not hear from Steve for days.

His mom seems none the wiser when he returns home.She asks if he had fun, how Steve is adjusting, and all of the usual questions and Jonathan answers them vaguely and quickly with guilt pressing deep in his chest.He knows his mother well and he knows that she probably knows in the back of her mind that something is up, but she doesn’t pry and Jonathan doesn’t offer up any information.He knows that he could, knows that he could sit down with her and tell her everything and she would comfort him and tell him all the right things to do.She always knows what to say, in a very mom-like sort of way.And he supposes it’s not that he doesn’t feel comfortable talking to her about things.It’s just that he doesn’t want to speak it into existence.Oddly enough it feels less overwhelming to just keep it to himself.

It doesn’t really make sense to him either.

But when he doesn’t get a phone call from Steve the day he returns home, and then doesn’t get one the next day, he goes into a state that’s barely short of panic.

Well, it’s more like extreme, unchecked restlessness.

He’s constantly in and out of the house, going on drives to the middle of nowhere and pointedly trying to get lost just to kill a little time, and it really doesn’t work because Hawkins is way too small and he’s lived here way too long and he just finds himself avoiding all the gravel roads so he can gun it up to seventy on the decent ones and listen to his music as loud as his speakers will allow.He chainsmokes, he tries to take pictures but he always feels like they’re not turning out well and are void of inspiration.

He knows in the back of his mind that he’ll hear from Steve again, that he’s not going to just disappear and never talk to him about anything because that’s just not how Steve is, but there’s still the fear sitting in the pit of his stomach that he royally fucked everything up and that’s just that.He even drives all the way to West Lafayette one day before he realizes that he completely has no idea where Steve is at and it serves as nothing more than a time-killer.

He just wishes that he could turn back the clock, that he could go back to the phone call that they had and tell Steve that he’s sorry and ask him to come over so they can talk about things.Or further than that even, to when he’d initially broken things off and acted like they were nothing or something, because that’s not how he feels and that’s never been how he felt and he feels like such a dick for even implying that he did.He doesn’t know what the alternative to this is but he knows there has to be some other option and he’s willing to chase it, he doesn’t care anymore, because even if things have to be over in a year he’s willing to accept those consequences if it means he gets to have his best friend for a little longer.If it means he gets to have _Steve_  for a little longer.Because at least it’ll give him the opportunity to do things a little bit differently, or at least an opportunity to figure out how.

When a shift at work finally comes up it’s a relief because really it’s the only thing he has to look forward to; it gives him a good five hours where he’ll be busy and his mind will be occupied and he won’t have to constantly stare at the clock hoping the hours will tick by a bit faster.And yet when he comes in and tries to go about his day, his mind is on Steve anyways and it’s all jumbled and moving way too fast while the time continues to move way too slow.It’s like there’s no escape from his thoughts and that’s terrifying and he knows it’s only been a matter of days, only been about a week since things first changed, but it feels like he’s never going to feel normal again and he’s never going to feel quite right.He hates that he’s even thinking like that because it means that he’s truly considering the possibility that this might really be over.For real.

His coworkers keep asking him if he’s okay which Jonathan _really_  hates because he’s pretty sure he has a bad case of Resting Bitch Face as it is so if people are noticing a change in him that must mean he looks seriously rough.He lies and tells everybody he’s just tired, which he thinks is the universal scapegoat for issues in the adult world, and nobody presses the topic any further.Which he’s grateful for, because he’s pretty sure that if anyone got too persistent he might’ve actually broken down and told them that his fuck buddy went to college and he hurt their feelings and he’s not quite sure if anyone would understand the nuances of that situation.

And even though work drags, it also feels like it’s over way too quickly and he’s clocking out and leaving for the night.Despite how challenging it was to act normal throughout the evening, it’s the only thing that’s truly taken up some of his time recently and now he’s left feeling like, ‘ _Now what_?’, back to square one of having to desperately search for an activity to keep him busy.

He fishes around in his pocket for his pack of cigarettes as he walks out the door, and he hasn’t even pulled them out yet when he glances up and sees a familiar car sitting at the curb.He’s not sure if his heart drops or leaps out of his chest.It’s like somehow it does both at the same time.

_Steve_.

Jonathan freezes, staring straight at the car as Steve climbs out, and oh my God it’s _Steve_ , Steve with his sunglasses perched on his head and a cigarette between his lips, Steve with his hair still hanging against his shoulders despite the fact that he hasn’t seen Jonathan in a week, Steve with his Purdue-branded tee shirt and his expensive shoes, just Steve in all of his entirety standing right in front of him and it feels like it’s been so much longer than it’s actually been.

“Hey,” Jonathan calls out, his voice loud in the still of the evening. 

“Hey,” Steve echoes, pulling the cigarette out from between his lips so that he can speak. 

Jonathan moves without really thinking, slowly approaching where Steve stands as he tries to work out in his brain what he’s supposed to say.He really didn’t expect the conversation to happen like this.He thought he would have at least a bit of time to think about what he wanted to say, to plan it all out in his brain and make his thoughts a little more linear.And now, it’s like he can’t even remember anything he wanted to talk about, any of the lines he had planned to use to somehow make this all alright.

“Steve— okay, um, listen,” Jonathan says, stammering as he tries to collect his thoughts.“I—“

“No, _you_  listen to _me_ ,” Steve says, and he doesn’t sound angry, but...firm.It instantly shuts Jonathan up.

He watches as Steve takes one last hit off his cigarette, then tosses it on the ground, stepping on it to ensure that it’s put out.

When he looks back up at Jonathan it’s like time stands still for a moment.Just looking at Steve...just meeting his eyes and standing before him like this, every inch of logic in his breaking it off with Steve seems to dissipate and he has no idea why he would ever attempt to do it.

“There’s something I forgot to tell you,” Steve says finally.

There’s a lot of things that Jonathan “forgot” to tell Steve.He supposes this is probably along the same lines.

“I, uh...” Steve pauses, rubbing his nose as he seems to get everything in order.“I told you that when I fell in love I would tell you what it felt like.And I...must’ve forgotten to mention it...”

Jonathan smiles slightly, nodding in encouragement for him to continue, because he’s pretty sure he knows where this is going but who would he be to put a premature end to Steve’s obviously well-thought-out speech?

“It’s like, uh...falling asleep next to somebody and not actually wanting to go to sleep because you want to sit there and talk to them more.And being able to say anything that’s on your mind ‘cause you know they won’t tell you you’re stupid, or at least if they do you know they don’t mean it.And it’s, uh, it’s letting them drive your dad’s Lamborghini even though he doesn’t even let _you_  drive his Lamborghini and by the way did you know that I stole those keys?I literally snuck into his bedroom and took them from his dresser.I could’ve been dead, you know.”

Jonathan laughs but he doesn’t say anything.

“It feels like...like dancing in the rain and making impulse decisions and kissing when you’re drunk and being _so_  fucking scared because you don’t want it to end and buying way more weed than usual because it feels like when you’re high that’s the only time you really connect and, you know what, this really doesn’t sound healthy,” Steve laughs softly, nervously, and stuffs his hands in his pockets.“And it sounded way better in my head, but what I’m trying to say is that I’m, uh...At some point I fell in love with you, Jonathan, and I don’t really know when it happened or when exactly I noticed it but I know that I’m in love with you and—“

“Kiss me,” Jonathan says, and he’s trying really hard not to grin from ear-to-ear and it’s not working out very well.

Steve’s eyes widen, and he glances around hurriedly.“Wha- here?There’s people here.”

“Do you care?”

Steve laughs softly, shaking his head. “No.”

And he wraps his arms around Jonathan’s waist and pulls him up against himself and kisses him with all the intensity that he can possibly muster.

It’s not like any of the kisses they’ve ever shared before.Because this time not a single thing is held back.It’s like they’re channeling everything that’s been missing in the past couple of months, everything that they haven’t done and haven’t said pouring into this one connection of their lips.Jonathan reaches up to wrap his arms around Steve’s neck, standing on his tiptoes so that they can make the kiss as deep as possible, and he’s not sure what he expected when he imagined this moment, there were way too many scenarios that rolled through his brain, but none of them were ever this good.None of them ever made his heart pound and his toes curl in his shoes not out of arousal but just out of pure joy.No kiss they’ve shared has ever felt this raw with emotion.

It’s Steve that breaks the kiss, and it feels like it happens way, way too soon, but to be fair Jonathan thinks that they could kiss for hours and it still wouldn’t feel like long enough.Steve gives him a light push, urging him backwards, and Jonathan stares up at him in confusion.

“Look,” Steve says, laughing softly.“You fucked everything up, okay?This had like, a sequence.I thought you would be way harder to convince.Uh, here, just get in the car.”

Jonathan does as he’s told, making his way around to the passenger seat, and it feels so familiar as he sits down, like home in a certain sense.He supposes that any place he’s ever been with Steve at would have this sort of vibe to it, but there’s something about the car that just feels particularly right.There’s just been so much time spent sitting in this seat, so many jokes made and deep conversations shared and thoughts mulled over in this very place.In a way this feels like the place where everything started, and he supposes that it sort of is.

Steve leans across Jonathan’s lap and pops open the glovebox, digging around in it for a moment to pull out a yellow manila folder.He drops it atop Jonathan’s thighs with a light smack, settling back into his seat.

“Look at that.”

Jonathan turns back the cover of the folder to reveal...some sort of informational booklet with the Purdue logo in the corner.He flips a couple of pages, trying to make sense of the blocks of text.

“Uh,” Jonathan chuckles softly, moving the papers back and forth in his hand. “What am I looking at, exactly?”

Steve shifts in his seat, laughing a bit himself, and he almost sounds nervous. “It’s uh...it’s...well it’s a lot of shit, actually.I should’ve tore out the page that had the important stuff but uh...It’s information on how to transfer schools when a year is up.”

Jonathan shakes his head incredulously, trying to make sense of what he’s saying.

“See, like, I don’t have a bunch going for me here.Just...basketball and whatever and every school has basketball so it’s not really that big a deal, and uh, I was thinking, you know, there’s no reason why I cant just go to New York with you—“

“Steve...”

“—but I need you to tell me right now if I’m like, being crazy or something.Like you would want that, right?”

“Steve,” Jonathan says again, breathlessly, and he turns to look at him, letting out a breath of disbelief. “You don’t have to—“

“Tell me that I’m not crazy.”

Jonathan stares at him, at the pleading look in his eyes and the undeniable _fear_  but also excitement and there’s so much wrapped up in his gaze that Jonathan swears he must be reading it wrong but he’s not sure he’s ever read Steve wrong before.

He reaches across the center console to place a palm to Steve’s cheek, grinning at him.There’s a million things running through his brain, all the stuff he wants to say.How he can’t believe that Steve thought this through so well, that he’s sorry he was acting like a dick, that he doesn’t even have to go to New York as long as it means he gets to be with him, but what comes out of his mouth is much less articulate.

“I love you.”

Steve grins, leaning forward against the console.“So is that...Jonathan talk for, ‘No, Steve, you’re not crazy’?”

“Is that Steve talk for, ‘I love you too, Jonathan’?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, was my scripted romantic comedy speech not good enough for you?”

“No, I was actually kind of disappointed.”

Steve laughs, leaning in, and Jonathan closes the gap between them, kissing him softly.It’s not like the absolutely electric one they shared before, but it’s good, and sweet, and it feels right.

It’ll take some time to iron out the kinks, Jonathan is sure.Steve is still two hours away, Jonathan still has the shittiest car in the universe (he genuinely can’t believe that it’s made it through this many joyrides in the past couple of days), and he still has no fucking idea how to navigate a relationship, in all honesty.But now, if they’re going to be doing things like this...it seems like time might be on their side, rather than working against them.They only have things to look forward to, not to dread.

And to be fair, the summer isn’t technically over yet.This can still be added to the file of cinematic moments they set out to achieve during it.And he thinks that it’s probably the best one yet, that it seals away the list in the best way possible.

“Hey,” Jonathan says softly, pulling away from their position, “how did you know I was at work?”

“Oh,” Steve says, settling back into his seat as he turns the car on.“I think your mom knows we’ve been fucking.Kinda dropped the ball on that one.”

“ _What_?”

“So where to?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you’re welcome. this is bittersweet because this fic is almost over and i’ve grown pretty attached to it, but...i’m cooking up another one as we speak so hopefully that’ll soften the blow


	18. The Epilogue

Jonathan is graduating today.

Steve reaches up to adjust Jonathan’s tassel, switching it over to the correct side.“How ya feeling?”

“Nervous,” Jonathan replies, taking a deep breath.

“Hey, you got this baby!Look at me.”Steve places his hand gently on Jonathan’s chin, waiting for his eyes to lift up to meet his.“You got this.”

Steve and Jonathan haven’t technically been together for a year now.They’ve been close for a year now, been intimate for nearly a year, but Steve didn’t actually _ask_ Jonathan to be his boyfriend until about a month after the summer ended.  (It was very romantic by the way, complete with cheap beer and shitty music on the top bunk in a dorm room).  But it feels like it’s been so much longer.If they looked like they were attached at the hip before, that was nothing compared to how they are now.

They’d been somewhat worried in the beginning about how well only seeing one another on the weekends would work.They were afraid it would be terrible, that they would miss each other too much or that, worse yet, they might grow apart.But really, it had been okay.Jonathan drove over to Steve’s dorm every Friday as soon as the school day ended, and stayed until Sunday evening, sometimes even Monday morning if Steve’s bed got too comfortable and he felt like hating himself when he woke up.And it had just become comfortable for them.

They’ve both always been good at finding joy in the little things.But they became really good at it while they were both in school.Breakfasts, watching movies, just laying around in bed, these mundane things became their idea of special, and it worked just fine for them.It did more than keep them afloat.It helped their relationship grow.  They navigated their new, somewhat scary but altogether exciting romance on the wings of phone calls and weekend plans and breaks spent stuck to one another’s sides, hoping that they wouldn’t end too quickly.

They spent Christmas together, and New Years, and all the other little holidays that don’t mean quite as much.  Steve even got Jonathan chocolates for Valentine’s day, and wasn’t dissatisfied when Jonathan admitted that the only gift he had planned was some really good sex, though he pretended that he was (it doesn’t count as a gift when you get it on a regular basis anyways).

And though their time spent together went by way, way too quickly, the time they had to spend apart felt like decades.  Both of their school years dragged on far longer than any ever had before, and they were constantly chasing that feeling of freedom and carefree innocence that they had shared before.

So now that they’re on the periphery of the summer, getting ready for round two, they’re more than ready. 

They just have to get Jonathan graduated first.

Jonathan leans back to sit against the seat, laughing softly.“I don’t know what I’m nervous about.I’m not even doing anything.It’s just...”

“No, I get it baby, I get it,” Steve assures him, because even though he can’t really empathize with this sort of thing he knows that Jonathan gets nervous about shit like this.He adjusts Jonathan’s hair a bit beneath his cap, straightening out a strand that was looking a bit unruly.

“Hey,” Steve says suddenly, placing a hand on Jonathan’s knee and giving it a light pat.“I have something that might make you feel a little better.”

Jonathan turns to look at him, and Steve leans over his lap to get into the glovebox, digging around beneath all of the other things stuffed inside of it.

“Is it another useless information pamphlet that you got out of a box in the Purdue Visitor’s Center?”

Steve gives him a smack on the knee, earning a soft ‘ _ow_ ’, even though he knows for a fact he didn’t hit Jonathan hard enough for it to hurt.“That was not useless.That was...a demonstrative tool.It drove my point home.”

“So is that a yes?”

Steve pulls back when he finds what he’s looking for, dropping a single envelope in Jonathan’s lap.It’s been ripped open already, the top torn up and just placed back together, and he makes sure it’s lip-side-up so as not to give anything away.

”You tell me.”

Steve watches with the tip of his tongue pressed to the inside of his cheek as Jonathan fishes the contents out of the envelope, pulling from it a single, folded sheet of paper and unfolding it quickly.He can see his eyes light up as they scan the page, and Steve waves his hands towards himself proudly, grinning.

“Read it out loud,” Steve urges, closing his eyes and just reveling in it.

Jonathan laughs softly, clearing his throat.“Uh, Dear Steven.Congratulations.I am very pleased to inform that you have been—“

Steve joins him as he reads the rest, their voices in unison.“—accepted for admission to the College of Arts and Science of New York University!”

Jonathan laughs breathlessly, turning to look at Steve while he stammers for words.

“We’re going to New York, baby!” Steve shouts.

“We’re going to New York!”

Jonathan lunges towards Steve, throwing his arms around his neck and hugging him tightly.Steve reaches around to cling to his waist, the silk of his gown soft beneath his touch. 

“How long have you had this?” Jonathan asks, pulling back to look down at the paper again, his eyes rolling over it another couple times.

“Uh, you know...”Steve shrugs.“A week or so?I was saving it to surprise you, I didn’t really know when the right time was, but...yeah.Surprise.”

Jonathan smacks the paper against his leg, smiling as he looks back up at Steve, and his dimples are showing which is Steve’s favorite thing about seeing his smile, on top of all the other things he loves about it.And even though Jonathan is the one excited right now, he didn’t see Steve dancing around his dorm and laughing into his palm when he first opened the letter.He supposes Jonathan will see that side of him at some point, for some reason.Though he’s not sure he’ll ever be this excited about anything ever again.Because that letter secured for him that their life together is seriously going to happen, that this wasn’t just some summer fling or some idyllic teenage relationship.It secured for him, for _them_ , that they’re going somewhere, and that somewhere is _New York_ , and they’re going together.

So long as Jonathan can get through the day with his diploma in his hand.

“Come on,” Steve urges, reaching over to rub Jonathan’s neck reassuringly.“Let’s roll.”

Jonathan nods, reaching for the door handle.“If I nervous-puke I’m putting all the blame on you.”

Steve glances up thoughtfully as Jonathan climbs out of the car.“How would you even...convince anyone that that was my fault?”

“Come on!” Jonathan shouts from outside the car, and Steve opens his own door, stepping out into the parking lot.

This is the last time he’s ever going to see Hawkins High, at least for a very long time, and he’s not the slightest bit sad about it.


End file.
